RUBY
by foxdvd
Summary: Mulder and Scully have to face the friendly neighbourhood psycopath... be warned, plenty of adult material in here
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Ruby (1/8)

AUTHOR: Ary GH

E-Mail: Nc-17 for language, violence and sexual content

CATEGORY: FBI adventure with an erotica twist and plenty of angst

SPOILERS: Up to season 5,but definitively before 'The End'

KEYWORDS: M/S angst, M/S romance

SUMMARY: When your friendly neighbour psychopath starts killing redheads, Scully is requested to go undercover ... as a stripper.

DISCLAIMER: No, they are not mine. No, I'm not getting money for this.  
No, I didn't ask Master Carter for his permission.  
And no, I hope this isn't the last time I do it.

ARCHIVE: Anywhere you like, as long as you keep the title, my name and e-mail together and in one piece.

FEEDBACK: Yes, thank you! Very much appreciated, specially since this is my first attempt at a long story. Oh! And please bear in mind than English is not my native tongue, so forgive any grammar mishaps.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Someone once told me it's damn hard to write a good erotica story that actually had a plot. Whomever it was: you're absolutely right.

What started as some mind candy (some naughty undercover work to get our friends in the mood for some naughty under covers workout) soon bloomed into an X-like adventure, with plenty of angst, violence, self-hatred, suicidal attempts and a very real bad guy to catch before it was too late.

And then came the sex. Or, to quote my own Mulder,  
"the intellectual masturbation". Sex talk left,  
right and centre. And guilt. Plenty of it. 

All this to say that this story may not be your usual brand of smut. Still, it makes a good read,  
even if I say so myself.

I wish to dedicate this story to all my good on-line friends who've been kindly encouraging me to finish this for over a year. Thanks for your patience,  
awesome beta-reading and insightful comments.  
And for Alex, Cary and Chris, three great men whom I'm lucky enough to call friends and who have been kind enough as to let me peek inside their world of male fantasies.

Special, special thanks to Jay Fox. He beta-read and even re-wrote a few things here and there. I couldn't have asked for a better 'father' for 'Ruby.  
Thanks a lot, Jay!

Erin: you know you shouldn't be reading this.  
You or any other kid out there. So do me a favour and get out of here. This is NC-17. You want to get me in trouble with your parents, or what?  
Once again, may CC have mercy on my soul.

"RUBY"

SOMEWHERE IN WASHINGTON D.C.  
JULY 31 11:15 P.M.

I had been looking everywhere for her. And I was getting tired of these games she was playing. I had asked her to stop it, to get help, to talk to me about it... but she refused it. I had done everything in my hands to help her get through this... this phase she was going through.

For I am sure it is just a phase. I am sure she is still in love with me, as deeply as in the beginning, more deeply if it was possible. But I know what kind of woman she is. I know she has a tendency to feel restless once in a while. I know she likes to play this weird games with me. But only because she loves me.

But she is getting out of control. I could feel it, I could sense it, I was sure of it. And I had spoken with her. Pleaded. Requested. Begged. And she had promised she would stop. And I believed her.

Until tonight.

Tonight I had gone home, looking for her. The minute I came inside the house, I knew. Like a sixth sense, I knew she was out here,  
somewhere, playing this stupid games, ignoring her promise. It was exactly like those many times before, just the same thing. But this time... this time I was taking matters into my own hands.

I began searching for her in the streets and alleys of the city. I almost knew I would find here around here, in the seediest part of town, mingling with scumbags and human had-beens. I could feel anger rising to a boiling point. She had broken her promise, and she should face the consequences. She would face the consequences.

Once or twice I thought I had found her. But they weren't her. The colour was close, but it was fake. I could tell from the way their skin shone, from the absence of freckles, from the lack of spark in their eyes. They were not the real thing.

She was. The real thing. Ruby hair, ivory skin, ocean of freckles, and the unmistakable Irish spark in her eyes. She was one hundred percent Irish, just like my mother had been. Just like myself.

People always thought we were siblings. 

People could be so stupid sometimes.

Finally, I found her. She was standing on a corner, leaning slightly forward if a car came by. I don't remember seeing her wearing that black leather miniskirt before. Or the red halter top, for that matter. 

But the mid-thigh boots were hers. She had bought them after watching that hooker movie, the Cinderella nonsense about a "pretty woman". And she loved those boots. She even wore them during summer, regardless of the heat. And she always wore them when she was out, playing her games. Always.

She turned around when she heard me approaching. She evaluated me carefully. She continued to play the game, even in this moment.

"Looking for some fun and games, darling?"

I grabbed her shoulder. "Sarah ... I warned you."

The last thing I see are the red traces the knife makes in her white flesh, her pale blue eyes staring lifelessly at me as I plunge in over and over again.

"I warned you, Sarah..."

FBI BUILDING AUGUST 5 4:06 P.M.

I rubbed my eyes, feeling overwhelmly tired. I had spent the last two days working with VCS, doing a profile on a new serial killer. A psycho with a penchant for killing prostitutes and strippers.

His MO was brutal and effective. He slashed their throats with a hunting knife and then stabbed their chest until it was a barely recognisable pulp. He didn't waste time dumping their bodies, for he left them lying in the same spot he had killed them.

The other remarkable characteristic was that the victims, all 14 of them were redheads. Natural redheads.

The DC police was baffled and worried about the mixed feelings this particular case had stirred. The general public couldn't care less for the victims, they were hookers and nude dancers, after all, but was upset with the prospect of finding a savagely mutilated corpse lying on the street.

It hadn't helped that the last person to stumble into a body had been the daughter of a Congressman. That's when the FBI had been called in. The case had been promptly handed to VCS and they had been quick to request a profiler to help them identify the killer.

Skinner had also been quick to drag my ass into his office, demanding I gave my full attention to the matter. That's how Scully ended doing autopsies for two days in a row. The same two days I had spent in this office, surrounded by pictures, evidence found at the sites and forensic reports, trying to get into this psycho's head, trying to figure out what made him tick.

So far, my profile wasn't very precise. My description of the suspect could be applied to one third of the male population in the area.

It was clear that he was killing the same person over and over again.  
What I had yet to discover was who this person might be. His mother?  
It would explain his need to destroy the victims breasts, and if he viewed his mother as a sexual being, it would also explain why he went after the hookers and the strippers.

Or maybe he was getting even with a former lover, one who had cheated on him. If she had been fooling around he would certainly consider her a tramp. But that wouldn't explain why he was slaying the breasts. It would make perfect sense if he attacked the genital area, but, the breasts?

The third and last option was his wife. Or ex-wife. Someone who had given birth. Someone who had...

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. I didn't have to turn around to know who had came in. I'd recognise those footsteps anywhere.

"Mulder?"

I turned around to meet my own personal redhead. I knew I was dead wrong on her being mine, but I've come to feel rather territorial about her. She's mine, just as much as I'm hers. If she wanted me,  
that is. I've never allowed myself to delve too deeply on our mutual feelings. If that makes me a coward, so be it.

"Yes, Scully?"

She sat down wearily. Dark circles under her eyes, shoulders slumped.  
Her hand was massaging her neck. God, she must have been as tired as I was.

"I went over all the reports three times. I couldn't find anything. The fingerprints I found where so smudged that we'll never get more than a 70 match, and that's being very hopeful. No traces of blood other than the victims."

"Any other bodily fluids?" I ask, moving closer. I hold her eyes as she answers.

"Yes. I found semen and saliva on two of the bodies, but the samples tested as coming from three different individuals. There's no way I could tell you if they belong to the killer or to the victims uh.  
previous clients," she replies looking down at her hands.

"So the lady had a busy night?" I observe in idle observation.

"The lady had the wrong kind of busy night," Scully replies, looking up with a weary nod. Our eyes meet again for a moment. She looks defeated, bone tired. I lay a hand on her shoulder.

"Mulder, I know the saliva wasn't the victim's too. I just...I can't tell if it was from her murderer though either."

The defeat in her voice is palpable. I decide to get her refocused here so she'll shake it off. A little facetiousness to goad her. It usually works. This time is no exception.

"So, you're saying that even though this guy is so sloppy he's clever enough not to leave a trace?" I ask baiting the verbal hook.

"You could say that. Either that, or he's just very lucky"

"Oh, come on, Scully. What are his chances of being "just lucky" 14 times?" I raise and eyebrow in perfect imitation of her usual sceptical expression. She catches my attempt to bolster her up again.

She smiled. "You want an exact figure or will an estimate do?"

I smiled back. "I didn't know forensic medicine included a statistics course."

"No, but it did taught me never to discard something because it was too obvious."

Scully dived into her pocket and produced a small plastic bag. She lifted it up in the air so I could see what was inside. There, barely visible, was a human hair. A red human hair.

"The victim's?"

"No. It doesn't match the victim's hair. The shade is different, the length doesn't match and the texture is coarser."

"Dye?"

"No, it's not chemically treated. I'll have to wait for the DNA lab results, but I'm pretty sure of why it's different. This is a man's hair."

My eyes grew wide with astonishment. "Are you sure?"

"As I said before, I'll have to wait for the lab results, but I'm 80 sure it is a man's hair."

My mind was running in three different directions at the same time.  
If Scully was right, this meant that the killer was a also a redhead,  
and that changed things, if not drastically, significantly.

For one, our suspect pool was considerably reduced. There weren't that many redheads out there, and once we had the lab results, the number of suspects would be even less.

Also, the motivation would change. I was eager to digest this new piece of information, so I began shuffling papers around, trying to come up with different ideas in the light of this new element.

"Mulder. I'm going home to shower and change. On my way back I'll pick up the lab results and some Chinese take-out and bring them to you, ok?"

I nodded at her in appreciation and busied myself with the profile.  
When I heard the door locked, I looked up. The third thing on my mind had been to kiss Scully. You see, every time she comes up with something that will help our investigation I'm overwhelmed with the need to kiss her. I guess it would be the perfect demonstration of my increasing awe and respect, although I also have the feeling that she wouldn't understand it.

Most of the times I can ignore this kissing urge. I've been close to doing it two or three times in the past. On every single occasion I had been both physically and mentally exhausted, and I had had to really fight this feeling. Today, however, I'm a little beyond exhaustion. I'm also tired of fighting my feelings for her. 

It is a really dangerous combination. 

I decide to immerse myself in the profile. It is the lesser of the two evils.

Profiling can take away my sanity. Scully has already taken my soul.

A couple of hours later I looked up. Scully still wasn't back. I was beginning to feel restless. I needed to go out for a run, to shoot some baskets, to get fresh air... anything to get me away from the terrible feeling of constrictment that had descended upon me. 

I was considering waiting for her outside when the phone rang.

"Mulder."

"Mulder, it's me. I got a call from Skinner requesting a meeting in half an hour..."

"I'll see you there."

"Mulder..." her tone of voice was tentative, "you haven't been requested to attend this meeting."

I felt something similar to shock by this news. "What? Why? What did I do this time?"

Scully was amused. "When will you learn that not everything is about you? I'm having a meeting with Skinner and Stan Carlbadier regarding some undercover work. This doesn't affect you."

But it does, Scully, it does. Everything about you affects me. I was careful to keep this thoughts to myself. 

"So you don't want me to meet you there..."

"No. Wait. On second thought, I'll meet you there. That way I won't have to go looking for you to deliver your dinner, and I won't have to go into the meeting smelling like Chop Suey."

I was certain I could hear her smirking over the phone. "Ok. Sounds fair to me. Where are you?"

"Race you to the elevators."

"You're on."

And I hung up. I didn't like the idea of Scully discussing undercover work with Stan Carlbadier, one of the best undercover supervisors VCS has. I had worked with him before and he was a thorough agent, genuinely concerned with his people wellbeing, and an overall nice guy.

When I came out of the elevator Scully was already waiting for me. A bag full of steaming Chinese take-out boxes was standing next to her.  
She was holding another bag full of bottles: iced tea and root beers.  
"You're late."

I winked at her. "My dominatrix was keeping me busy on the phone."

"No excuses, Mulder. You lost." She handed me the food and the drinks. "Save some Chicken Kung Pao for me, ok?"

With that, she was gone. I looked down at the bags in my hands and sighed. As hungry as I was, I wouldn't start eating until she came back from the meeting. Eating alone was not an exciting prospect compared to eating with her.

I sighed once again and returned to the office.

Forty-five minutes later the door opened again. Scully came in and,  
without a word, slumped into a chair. She mechanically reached for the food, barely registering that the bag was still unopened.

I had suspected something was wrong the minute Skinner requested to see Scully alone. I KNEW something was wrong by looking at her face, still focused, after the meeting.

I allowed us to eat in silence before tackling the issue. I noticed Scully was eating half-heartedly, as if her thoughts were some place far away...

"So?" I prompted her.

"So, what?"

"What did Stan Carlbadier wanted you for?"

Scully hesitated before answering. "Nothing much. Just a little undercover work on the sideline..."

" You know Scully, I'd never considered using Stan Carlbadier and a little undercover work in the same sentence." Noticing my humour attempt had gone by unnoticed, I decided to try it again. "Scully,  
Stan Carlbadier is like the major leagues... nothing is just a little when you work with him. So, what's the scoop?"

She began shuffling some papers around. "I'm... not supposed to tell you the exact details of the operation..."

"What! I'm your partner, for Christsakes!"

"That's precisely the reason. See, they need you in here to keep working on that profile. If you were to follow me you could jeopardise not only my assignment, but yours as well."

"So I'm supposed to stay chained to this stupid desk while you're out there running around facing God knows what kind of dangers and not worry about it, is that right?"

"Carlbadier said he'll talk to you about this later."

"I'll be sure to remind him of it."

We continued eating in silence. Scully is deep in thought, and I am steaming. How dare those motherfuckers? I hadn't been chained to a desk since my days with Patterson and those days were definitively over. 

So I could jeopardise the mission, uh? Sure. Fine. Whatever. If VCS doesn't want to see me around, they won't. That doesn't necessarily mean I'm not going to be around...

If those bastards think I'm going to let them jeopardise Scully's well being in one of their "special" missions they still don't know Fox Mulder very well. I've almost lost her one too many times to let her protection in the hands of those careless slobs.

"Well?", I prompt her once more.

"Well, what?" she replies. I have to hand it to her. She's mastering the art of not answering when she doesn't want to.

"What do our little friends at VCS want you to do?"

" I told you... I can't tell you."

"I know. I know. I can jeopardise the whole mission. At least tell me who are you supposed to play..."

"Mulder..."

"A doctor? Lawyer? Indian chief?"

"Damn it, Mulder."

"All right, what then? A landlady? Some long-lost relative?"

"No," she states flatly.

I can see her shifting uncomfortably on her chair. At least two dozen loud alarm bells are starting to ring in my head.

"They've requested me to go undercover as a dancer..."

I carefully consider this new piece of information before continuing my interrogatory. "I wasn't aware of your artistic background, Scully."

"I took ballet lessons once in a while when I was a kid... and I tried to attend dancing lessons at least once a week while at the university", she answered, defensively

"My mistake, then. So, you're going to be a dancer... why?"

She shook her head. "Can't tell you..."

More negatives. I could see Scully biting her lower lip, like she did when she was worried, puzzled or deeply embarrassed.

"Then tell me where, Scully. Where in the name of God would you go undercover as a dancer?"

My words come out harsher than I expected, but, for some obscure reason, knowing the answer was becoming an obsession.

"At a stripper's night club"

"Why you? I mean, you don't look the part..." I hated being so cold,  
but I was getting uneasier by the minute.

"Because they need a redhead ... a natural redhead."

"But why do they need a r..." I interrupted myself. I looked down at the profile I was working on.

All the pieces fell into place. VCS was desperate trying to catch this guy, having exhausted all the usual means to do it. So now VCS was setting him a trap. With Scully as bait.

I felt anger boiling inside my head.

"Oh, no. You're not going, Scully. It's too damn dangerous."

"I know what I'm getting into, Mulder. I know the risks."

"Somehow, I'm not sure you're getting the whole picture, Scully.  
This guy is a total wacko, If he lays a hand on you..." I shuddered at the idea, " You'd be dead before your backup arrives!"

"Don't you think I know, Mulder? I did those damn autopsies, in case you have forgotten!"

I was desperately trying to stop her. "Even so, I don't think you have what it takes."

"Goddamit, Mulder! Stop protecting me!"

"I'm not protecting you, it's just that you don't have the necessary experience to work undercover."

Scully was beginning to loose her patience. "I am a trained agent, for Christ's sake!"

"Yeah, and one assigned to ME."

Her eyes grew big and dark. "You're pulling rank on me, Mulder?"

"If it is what it takes to prevent you from taking this assignment,  
then the answer is Yes, I'm pulling rank on you, Scully, and you're not going. That's final." I grabbed the phone. "I'm calling Carlbadier and pulling you out of the mission."

Our screaming match had reached such level that neither of us heard the door open until we heard Skinner's voice.

"And as YOUR superior, I'm telling you, Agent Mulder, that Agent Scully IS going to this assignment, whereas YOU are not. Am I making myself clear?"

"But, Sir ..."

"Am I making myself clear, Agent Mulder?"

I looked at Skinner's stone face. I knew it was useless to keep this going on any longer.

"Yes, sir."

"Very well, then. Agent Scully, Agent Carlbadier is waiting for you... he'll take you to meet your contact at the club."

"Yes, Sir." Scully hurriedly collected her purse and jacket and left the office without as much as a glance thrown my way.

I could feel Skinner's glare in the back of my head.

"Would that be all, Sir?" I swear to God I wasn't trying to be sarcastic...

"I'm not trough with you Agent Mulder," replied Skinner, while he turned around and locked the door.

Turning back again, he motioned me to come closer. I did. Years of experience have taught me not to mess with him when he's in this mood.

"Agent Mulder," his voice is low, tense, "I don't like the idea of putting Agent Scully in unnecessary danger any more than you do," he grates out.

I set my jaw and prepare for the lecture. But he surprises me. He gives a world weary sigh. He runs his fingers up under his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. When he removes his hand his eyes are somewhat less dark. But his jaw is still stiff as he continues.

"But look - Mulder. You have to consider how precarious your situation is with the Bureau right now. The only reason you have the X-Files is because you're useful to VCS. Therefore, when they say come you are only allowed to ask when. No more, no less."

I nodded gravely. As much as I despised the rules I still knew some of them... like those who could make the difference between keeping the X-Files and being kicked out of the FBI... and Skinner had appealed to the Golden Rule of All Rules: whether I liked it or not, my ass officially belonged to the VCS.

"However, once your profile is finished, you're allowed to join the other field agents in this killer's manhunt." He paused and gave me a stern look. "Besides, I am not responsible of what you do in your free time."

I gave Skinner one of my patented questioning looks. He gives me back one of his patented unreadable ones.

"You've been working down here for more that 48 hours. That entitles you to a day or two off. Regarding you finished your profile, that is."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Skinner was giving me... well, you could say he was giving me permission to look after Scully.

"Finish that profile, Agent Mulder. That's all I'm requesting." Skinner turned around to leave. When he reached the door he turned around and tossed something my way.

"I believe this is the evidence you need, Agent Mulder."

And with that, he was gone.

I looked at the object Skinner had tossed to me. A matchbook. From a stripper joint.

I sat down and contemplated the evidence and information surrounding me. I checked the lab results Scully had brought and forgotten on her desk. I was beginning to get a clearer picture of this guy...

With a sigh of determination I sat down on my desk, starting to sink deeper and deeper into this guy's psyche. Redhead killing redheads.  
Brutal killings, the release of a deep hatred. Payback for a hurtful betrayal...

Somewhere in a lost part of my brain, the image of another redhead was dimming into the background.

I began to type furiously.

I had finished printing the profile when Stan Carlbadier came into the office.

"I was looking for you, Mulder", he simply stated as he sat down.

"That makes two of us, Stan. I was about to go looking for you to give you the profile."

"You done already?" The question held a mixture of admiration and suspicion.

"Yup. I must say that, without Scully's discoveries during the autopsies, I would still be struggling to understand this guy."

Carlbadier began skimming over the written profile. "Are you sure we are looking for a redhead, Mulder?"

"Positive."

"That'll make things a lot easier for us." He sighed and placed the file on top of the desk. "I didn't come looking for you to talk about the profile, though..."

I just sat there, looking at him. I was still angry at their idea of risking Scully's well being, and damned if I was going to help him by making this any easier.

"I'll go straight to the point. I know you don't like us using Scully as bait for this guy. I don't like it either, but we don't have much choice. She's the only available agent at such short notice, and she knows what we are dealing with here."

He paused, waiting for me to say something. But I remained silent.  
I couldn't trust myself not to say something I'd later regret.

"Damn it, Mulder, I wouldn't do it if there was another way out of this mess! But it's done and I'm not changing my mind about it. I came down here to tell you that when you finished the profile you were free to go home."

"Go... home..." I muttered, clenching my jaws. "I don't get a chance to go out and play with the other kids, do I?"

"Mulder, you're tired, you're not assigned to the team and you're too emotionally involved to be of any use..."

"I'm what?" The hell with composure, I've never been the ideal FBI agent to begin with.

"You heard me. I don't want you at the stakeout. That's final. You got a problem with that, take it to Skinner. You did your job and now you're officially back in the X-Files..."

"Yeah...go chase some aliens, Spooky and leave everyday criminals to the good guys."

Carlbadier and I turned to the door as one. Standing there, smiling wickedly, was Tom Pain-in-the-Ass Colton. I opened my mouth to reply to his smartass comment, but Stan beat me to it.

"Agent Colton, hand in your badge and gun. You're suspended".

"What! I didn't do anything! I was backing you up in your decision to leave Spooky out of the game..."

"You heard me, Colton." Visibly upset, Colton dropped his gun and badge on top of the desk. "That's be all. I'll have Skinner's secretary call you at home when we're ready to determine your return to this section."

Colton opened his mouth as if to say something, thought better about it, and turned around to leave.

"And, Colton?" Tom turned around, half expecting the whole thing to be a joke. "Next time you address Agent Mulder by any other than his last name, I'll personally kick your ass out of the Bureau."

Carlbadier completely dismissed Colton and turned back to look at me.  
"Asshole", he muttered.

I felt somewhat uncomfortable, not being used to have someone else do my battles for me. I wasn't sure if I should thank Stan or just let the whole thing go unmentioned.

"Stan..."

"Go home, Mulder. Get some rest. Come back tomorrow noon. We'll discuss then if you get a chance to play bodyguard for Dr. Scully."

With that, he turned and left.

I grabbed my overcoat and followed suit. I had a redhead to catch.  
Two, actually, if things got really bad.

STARDUST NIGHT CLUB AUGUST 9 11:23 P.M.

The Stardust Night Club wasn't what I had expected. Perhaps I had been misled in my assumptions by the image of the Vegas Stardust.  
Never been there, mind you, but I had seen "Showgirls" enough times as to feel acquainted with the place.

It's Washington twin was more of a distant cousin. It wasn't ritzy or flashy. No big marquee on the outside, no fancy signs announcing their dancing stars, no red carpet or anxious valet waiting to whisk your car the minute you got out, hoping to earn a juicy tip.

No. The Stardust Night Club in Washington D.C. was a dark and distinguished building, with a classy neon sign at a first-floor level and a very discreet double door entrance. Everything was nice and tasteful, lest anyone think that government employees liked to get down and dirty in their spare time.

Inside, things were a little different. For one, it was brighter.  
And the atmosphere went from discreet to outright blatant. The testosterone overload in the air was so thick you could almost taste it. It reminded me of a huge and decadent bachelor party.

Finding Scully's contact wasn't very difficult. It was just a matter of finding the right hand to squeeze with a twenty among the club's staff. Both the bartender and the bouncers had seen Candy, one of the club's employees, arriving earlier that night with a petite redhead.

Doug, one of the bouncers, told me that Candy was the one in charge of the new dancers. He said she had been working in the club for six years and the only employee with more seniority was Oscar, the owner.  
It seems this guy Oscar trusted her unconditionally and never questioned her choice of dancers.

He pointed her out to me when she briefly appeared behind the stage's curtains. She filled the "blond bimbo" stereotype up to the nines,  
chewing gum included.

"You sure the owner trusts her?" I asked, doubtfully.

Marty laughed. "Don't let appearances deceive you. Underneath that bubbly blond exterior lies the brains of a nuclear scientist and the commercial instincts of a Wall Street broker."

"If you say so"  
"Me and everyone else. She's busy right now with the crash course for the new dancer, but she'll be free in an hour, tops. Have a drink,  
enjoy the view, and I'll introduce you two on our next break."

"Sure, why not?" I mumbled trying to sound excited at the prospect.

At least, Scully was still around and I could keep an eye on her.

Half an hour later I was deeply in conversation with Mike, the bartender. I told him this is my first time at the Stardust and asked him if the girls are nice. He tells me they are.

"But... how nice?" I kept asking. I wanted to make sure Scully was safe inside as well as outside.

"Well... Oscar, the owner, would throw out any girl, no matter how popular, if he suspected she was doing drugs... and he won't pick up girls from the street just because they're busty. No, no. To work at the Stardust the girls need to audition. We are a decent business".

I tried to look disappointed. "So, no hanky-panky going on?"

A broad smile crossed Mike's face. "No... unless you got enough cash on you and the lady in question finds you slightly attractive".

I raised an eyebrow in my best Scully imitation. "That so?"

"Yup. You see, after a dancer has left the stage, most guys will try to place a wager ... it's like bidding for the chance of getting a private dance. The highest bidder gets the privilege of the dance."

I was both curious and worried. Private dance my ass, I thought.  
"And what can you expect from a private dance session?"

"That would depend on the girl... and how much cash you've got on you... 50 dollars to get a lap dance... 500 bucks could get you a night to remember... "

So much for the decency of the club. "Thought you said they were no street girls..."

"No. No street-girls for the Stardust... only top-quality, 5 star escorts and call-girls... most of the ladies here get their kicks out of champagne and caviar, and you better have a limo waiting for them at the door... "

The phone rang and Mike went to answer it. I was feeling uneasy. I looked around to see what kind of guys went to the Stardust for a little fun. Most of them looked like respectable, married men all dressed up pretty much like me. A couple of biker type here and there, but ,mostly, it looked like a respectable place.

Still, the idea of any of these guys laying a hand on Scully made my stomach churn. I sighed. Maybe no one would find her as appealing as the other dancers...

Sure. And maybe Scully would come out dancing with little grey men as a chorus line.

I caught a glimpse of Scully's hair behind the stage's curtain. I moved closer and thought I saw a concerned look on her face. She was biting her lower lip in apprehension while looking at the dancer performing on the stage.

I looked at this girl. Tall, long legs, nice breasts, black, wild hair. A couple of years ago I would have been drooling all over the place for her. But that was before I fell for Scully. Now I can only think in terms of red and blue. What can I say? I'm addicted to her. 

But I could see why Scully was feeling uneasy. She's the most modest, private person I've ever met. I couldn't imagine Scully stripping down to barely nothing and keeping a cool facade...

I was sure she'd do it. I mean, she's a professional. She'd get the job done. But I seriously couldn't believe she'd be able to pull this off without blushing from her head to her toes.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Scully and Candy returning from the backstage. I quickly mingled with the crowd, hoping Scully wouldn't recognise me. I followed them outside just in time to see Scully getting into her car and driving away.

"Remember, 9:30 a.m.!", called the blond after the moving vehicle. I could see Scully waving her hand. 

My car was parked behind the club. I got in and drove to Scully's apartment. When I got there, I saw that her car was parked in its appointed slot, and the lights were on inside her place. I grabbed my cell phone and speed dialled her number.

"Scully". To an outsider, her voice would have been crisp and professional. But I know her better. And I know she's deeply annoyed and would have anyone's head for breakfast if provoked.

"It's me." I've never taken the time for niceties like saying hello or goodbye and Scully doesn't seem to mind... at least, not much.

"What is it, Mulder? Weren't the lab reports clear enough for you to understand them? Or are you expecting me to run out to perform another autopsy at 2:00 in the morning?" She's in her sarcastic mood. So maybe we'll change annoyed for a more suitable term. Royally pissed off comes to mind.

"I just wanted to see if you're okay..." Playing it cool seemed like a good strategy at the moment.

"Well, you know I'm home and in one piece, so you might as well drive back to your apartment, cause I'm not in the mood for midnight visits, ok? I'm fine." And, with that, she hung up.

I couldn't believe it. Damn it! She knew I was outside. I wondered if she knew I had been following her. I hoped not. When Scully gets this angry it is advisable to stay out of her way. And of her firing range.

I sighed. At least I knew she was safe at home. And I also knew she was meeting Candy at 9:30. I wasn't expected at the office until noon. That should give me enough time to see what was she going to do and where she would be. It would also give me enough time to figure out how to convince Stan Carlbadier to allow me to keep an eye on her.

Officially, that is.

Sighing, I turned on the ignition and went home. And although I was exhausted both mentally and physically, I was also feeling restless. I was familiar with the sensation. It is the same high I always experience after a profile.

Sleeping was out of the question. So was chatting with Scully to help us both to relax. That left only one thing to do. I plopped down on the couch and sat there watching one of those videos that weren't mine.  
I sighed again. If I couldn't unwind enough, the next day was going to be a hard one.

If I had only known what lay in store for me ...

/ 


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE:RUBY (2/8)

AUTHOR: Ary adventure with an erotica twist and plenty of angst

SPOILERS: Up to Season 5, but definitively before 'The End'

KEYWORDS:MSR

SUMMARY: A redhead killer on the loose and Scully working undercover

DISCLAIMERS: We all know they're not mine.  
I'd be willing to lend Stan Carlbadier, though

WARNING:Sex references and adult content follow.  
You've been warned. Read at your own risk.

FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT AUGUST 10 6:34 A.M.

I used to have a teacher back at Oxford who said that a psychologist's worst curse and best asset was his capacity for empathy. Your insight on the patient will always be accurate, but you'll walk through hell and back with him on the way to recovery. He also said that I've better consider a career change if I didn't want to end in therapy myself.

I began my profiler career like most other FBI hopefuls: back in Quantico during the basic training. Although a remedial course for some, Profiling Techniques and Behavioral Science is mandatory for everyone who has a psychology or psychiatry background. Needless to say, profiling is such a tough and delicate art they watch us like hawks, trying to find that diamond in the rough that will become the next 'golden boy' of the violent crime unit.

The guys who trained me thought I was that rough diamond. My former teacher asked if I had a death wish when I wrote to tell him I was going into the FBI as a profiler. My younger peers were awed by my skill, and my senior agents were spooked by it.

But I was young and naive then. And I thought I knew better than an old professor living in England. Nowadays I do know better: he was right and the rest of the world was not. I still keep his letter, the only one I ever got from him, and today I decided to look for it.

Not that I need a reminder of its content. I know that by heart. I think I was looking for some sort of affirmation, some mystic, inexplicable connection that would tell me I did the right thing. It strikes me as funny how a letter dated 10 years ago can seem to have been written for my present state of mind.

Professor McAddy had a definitive opinion on my choices in life after graduating for Oxford. He said that as sure as night I'd be in danger of loosing my sanity, even my soul, if I pursued the profiler path I seemed so intent on following. That I'd find it too easy to turn into the killer to catch a killer, to become a monster in order to understand a monster. And that his deepest fear was that one day I wouldn't be able to come back from those dark places I would roam while trying to figure out what made a man turn into a hideous cartoon of humanity.

Today I'm sure that if hadn't left BSU when I did, if I hadn't started obsessing about the X-Files, I would have definitively turned into some kind of sociopath misfit. And I'm not even sure I left quickly enough as to keep my sanity intact. But my soul was just mildly scarred when I met Scully.

Scully. I'm not sure Professor McAddy had a red-headed dynamo in mind when he strongly advised me to keep away from working with female partners. His reasoning makes as much sense today as it did so many years ago. I'm doomed to repeat the loss pattern I experienced when Sam was abducted. Doomed to be overly protective,  
unwilling to give them credit as capable individuals, unable to develop any kind of feeling towards them out of fear of lost.

Amazing how the old man could be so damnably right about me. He mapped my emotional sites with such ease it still scares me to think I could be so predictable.

But even a legendary eminence such as the Professor can be wrong.  
Not totally wrong, but wrong, nonetheless. For I have developed feelings towards Scully that shouldn't be there. Must not be there.  
But the feelings are there. Stronger than any other emotion, deeper than any of my obsessions. And fear had nothing to do with them.

Wrong.

Fear has everything to do with it. It's always been around, like a cloak, like a shroud. Fear of rejection, fear of love itself. But, above all this, fear of loss.

For loosing her is the only thing I could never bear. Not without loosing myself with her.

So I'm willing to make a sacrifice. I'll become the monster one more time, perhaps one last time, in order to save her. It seems like a fair trade: my sanity for my soul. My life for hers.

At the end, that old man from Oxford was right. My emotions override rational thought. My greatest nemesis would be no other one but myself. And time has come for me to face those facts.

So I begin the slow painful journey into the nightmarish hell that I've come to know so well. Slowly, but steadily, I become the killer, feeling his need to stalk and kill. A need for vengeance.

I can only hope that it is love that sees me through this.

SOMEWHERE IN WASHINGTON DC AROUND NOON

I saw Sarah last night. She was coming out of one of those sinful dance places. But she got away before I had a chance to talk to her.  
She was hanging around with a blond slut. I don't think I've ever seen that broad before. But I'm sure she must be the one that's been whispering naughty words into Sarah's ear.

I'm pretty sure of it. Sarah would never dream of going to a place like that. She would have never taken her clothes off in front of a group of strangers. Never. So the blond bitch must have talked her into it. I find no other explanation.

Sarah would never do something like that. Other gals would certainly do, but not my Sarah. I know her well, and I know she wouldn't.

But I noticed something different about her last night. The way she was dressed was different. Sarah's a simple gal, but her clothes were fancy, ritzy. Like she was rich or something.

I also noticed she was driving a car. Not the second-hand wreck she could have afforded, but a brand new one. The kind that looks expensive and probably is.

And I wonder where she got the money. Her good-for-nothing brother couldn't have given it to her. She don't buy lotto tickets. So she must have earned it. Or someone gave it to her. And I'm not stupid.  
No one gives out fancy cars and elegant clothes for free or out of the goodness of their hearts.

I feel disappointed. Sarah promised she was going to be a good wife.  
She promised she wouldn't go back to her old tricks. She promised.  
And I believed her. Seems I was a fool to do so.

It also seems like I would have to teach her a lesson. I'll have to teach her once and for all how to keep her promises. By the time I'm through with her she'll be begging my forgiveness and will think twice before even considering to break her promise.

Yes. Sarah and I will have ourselves a little chat.

Tonight.

FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT AUGUST 10 2:52 P.M.

I need a cold shower. And I need it real bad. I don't think I've ever needed one as badly as I need it now. 

But today... when I saw Scully back at the Stardust Club today.  
and to think what will happen tonight... oh, God... I don't think I'm going to be able to behave in an appropriate fashion.

Just to imagine her wearing those clothes... Christ, I need to take a plunge in the Arctic Ocean. And I'm still not sure that will work, either. Not the way my imagination is running right now.

I don't know how I'm going to be able to look at Scully again without getting a hard-on. I mean, there have been times before when my baser instincts were a little bit stronger than my will power. But,  
after what I saw today... I don't think I'd even be able to see her straight in the eyes.

Damn VCS and my profiling expertise. Damn Stan Carlbadier for dragging Scully into this undercover assignment. Damn her, too, for willingly taking the job.

Damn the psycho with a thing for redheads. The redhead psycho who kept exacting his private vendetta on every redhead woman working the streets... or dancing her clothes off, for that matter.

And damn Victoria's Secret, and every other store that catered to women's fancies and tempted male libidos. Places like that reminded me of a giant spider web, where a guy could get tangled and choke to death on silk and lace, and still die a happy fellow.

How am I supposed to concentrate on the case if all I can think of is her? How can I protect her if the killer feels the need to attack tonight at the club? How, indeed?

Dear God... what have I done?

EARLIER THAT DAY

It was barely a few minutes past eight when I parked my car one block away from Scully's apartment. Walked over to see if her car was still there, knowing I had arrived with plenty of time to spare, but checking to make sure all the same.

Having convinced myself that she was at home, I went back to my car and opened the bag that contained the coffee and bagel I had bought on my way here. I've always thought that stakeouts are always done better on a full stomach.

Stakeout. Something I get to do quite often in my line of work. I should be used to it by now, but I'm nervous all the same. I don't think I ever thought I'd be staking out Scully, but that's exactly what I'm doing.

I looked at my cell phone, debating whether or not to give her a call. Last night she was pretty angry and I did not dare to risk upsetting her again, so I decided I'd better not call her. At least,  
not yet. So I sipped my cup of coffee and settled down to wait.

Half and hour later I saw Scully leave her building and get in her car. I gave her a couple of minutes of advantage and then I started mine. I followed her, being specially careful not to be seen. She picked up Candy in front of the club and headed for a shopping mall. I had never been in that particular mall before, so I didn't know what to expect.

Scully dropped the blond stripper at the front doors, and went looking for a parking place. I waited until I saw her go inside the mall to park my car and followed her inside.

Candy was waiting for Scully in front of a beauty parlor. I've always hated those places. I remember the last time my mother dragged me inside one. I must have been 10 years old ... the smell of spray and God-knows-what-else was so strong I still get nauseous just thinking about it.

I waited outside for more than 45 minutes. What the hell were those two doing inside? Nothing could take that long, could it? I've never been very fond of all that female war fare. I'm a sucker for the results, mind you, but I'd rather not know how women achieve it.

As casually as possible I strolled outside the door, straining my ears to see if I could hear something that could give me a clue. Luck proved to be on my side, and I got to hear Scully's voice.

She was complaining. "Candy ... is this really necessary? I mean, can't I just do it myself?"

Candy just laughed. "Ruby, dear, Ruby? Was that Scully's undercover name? Ruby? How original can they get? I've been in the business for more than 6 years now, and believe me, darling, I still can't get the waxing right... "

Waxing? What waxing? What is this Candy talking about?

"But... but... "

Scully sputtering? What the hell was going on inside that place?  
I've never heard the kind of panic in her voice... not even when facing the mutants we've came across one too many times in the past.  
So what could she be facing now?

"Look girlfriend, let's get over with this. Let André do his job. You won't regret it. After all, you want to look nice in your g-string, don't you?"

Oh. Realisation downed on me. That kind of waxing. No wonder why Scully was trying to talk her way out of it... I tried to picture her getting waxed... and I found the thought of it too arousing.

I told myself I'd better not let my imagination go there, as fun and tempting as it looked. I had to remind myself that Scully was my partner, and that I should try to keep things professional, but my libido seemed to have other ideas of its own. My heart seemed to be walking down the same path, which left only my conscience and my intellect to deal with matters in what was considered an appropriate way.

Another 45 minutes went by. I was beginning to get restless. Finally, I saw Candy and Scully leaving the beauty parlor. Scully didn't look very happy. Can't say I blamed her. I had the distinct feeling that Scully was hating every minute of this assignment, and was truly regretting not having refused to do it.

I followed them, expecting to see them go in and out of different stores. To my surprise, they headed straight into a Victoria's Secrets boutique. My libido was somersaulting. That place reminds me of a candy store full of goodies, specifically designed to lure unsuspecting males into the realms of erotic fantasies...

There was no way I could get into the boutique without being noticed, so I waited outside. I tried to think about other things, like how I could protect Scully if the psycho decided to prey on her, but my mind kept wondering back to what kind of ensemble Scully would choose to perform in... I pictured her in something delicate and flowery...

It took almost a minute before I realised what I was doing. I was thinking of Scully not as my partner, but as a woman. And it definitively was a dangerous road to travel. Still, I couldn't help to think how she'd look in a leopard print, or black lace... or soft green silk.

I shook my head trying to clear my thoughts. This was Scully, my partner. My friend. The rational side of our mismatched duo. I could not regard her as a woman. I shouldn't. Too many things were at stake and I could loose everything we had if I let my feeling for her interfere.

And yet still... no one in his right mind would be able to deny that Dana Scully was one hot number.

Scully and Candy were leaving the store with a couple of bags. I hid as quickly as possible, certain that Scully had seen me and was headed my way to demand an explanation.

But she kept on walking next to Candy. She looked... radiant. She was blushing, but in a different way. I'd never seen her like that. I felt a warm tug at my heart and something, definitively warmer, in my groin. Warning signals were flashing in my head, but I chose to ignore them.

You see, I had to find out what Scully had bought. My mental health depended on it. Not that it was too stable to begin with... the porn videothon that lasted well into the early hours of the morning had left my defences weak and my senses... well , heightened.

An heated battle was taking place inside my head. My intellect ordered me to follow them, that I was keeping watch over Scully and would never forgive myself if something happened to her while I was playing hooky.

The rest of me, however, had a different idea. Thorn between duty and desire, I allowed my heart to make the decision. And so I turned around and went into the boutique.

"May I help you?"

I looked at the sales girl and flashed her my most charming smile. She smiled back. It was good knowing that I haven't forgotten how to do it. Scully always seemed immune to my disarming smile and seductive personality... though, if I had to be perfectly honest, her lack of acknowledgement had made our innuendo's game even more thrilling. Not knowing how she'll react made it all more fun, more addictive, more... dangerous.

"You see. I'm... aah... looking for a present for my fiancé. Now, why did I said that? She's a redhead and I'm not really sure what would suit her... I saw a redhead just like her coming out of the store a minute ago and I thought that, maybe, if you showed me what this girl had bought... "

I gave the girl my most innocent and adorable look. And it worked. She must have thought I was the most considerate fiancé a girl could ask for. As if.

"Why, certainly, sir. I helped the lady put together the ensemble she bought. Come this way, please."

I followed the girl around, trying to keep a straight face while surrounded by lace and satin and all kinds of lingerie. Not an easy task, if you should know. I had to remember the flukeman to remain calm. I almost achieved it.

Almost.

The salesgirl came back with the clothes, what little was of them, anyway. I watched them, in shock. Not because I'd never seen anything like it before, mind you, but because I was picturing Scully wearing them.

Push-up satin bra. Lace g-string and matching garter belt. Stockings. And a silk, kimono-like robe. 

I held the soft cloth in my trembling fingers, hoping the girl wouldn't notice how badly they were shaking. My senses were going into a lust-like frenzy . I could barely pay attention to what the girl was telling me. The mental images were that overwhelming.

"I'm sorry, sir. But we're out of the robe in red. Would you like to see it in another colour?"

"Excuse me?"

"Red. The lady you saw chose the robe in red. I'm sure you'd like to buy the same colour that she... "

"No, never mind. I'll just bring her and have her choose whatever she likes, ok?"

I gave her a slight smile and almost ran out of the place. My hands were trembling so badly that it took me three tries to open the car's door. Once inside I couldn't stop shaking.

My imagination was on overload, and my forehead was hot. To be perfectly honest, it wasn't the only part of my body that felt hot, but I couldn't allow myself to give into the feeling. I just couldn't allow myself to delve too deeply into the sensations. Knowing I was attracted to Scully was one thing. Knowing she could arouse me like this was something completely different.

"Breathe, breathe... common, damnit, focus. Mulder, you need to focus NOW."

Slowly, very slowly, I recovered my self-control. And I knew I was in for trouble. Big time. If I couldn't control my reactions looking at the clothes, how was I going to control myself when I saw Scully actually wearing them?

What was I going to do when she began stripping?

How was I going to be able to protect her from a hormonal ape, let alone a maniac, if all my attention was focused on just a tiny (well, not really) part of my body? I had to get a grip on myself and start thinking with my upper head, and forget the lower one for the time being...

I let my head come in contact with the steering wheel. Hard. The pain seemedto clear my thoughts. A little anyway. Enough to bring them back to the case. Scully was going to be in danger, a sitting duck target for an extremely vicious killer. 

Therefore, I couldn't afford to just sit down and enjoy the view. I've never trusted the VCU protection of undercover agents, and I have a dislocated shoulder to vouch for their neglect. And that time it had been white collar criminals, not a cold-blooded murderer.

So I felt it was up to me to make sure Scully was okay. Irrational?  
Yes. A total lunacy? Maybe. But I wouldn't be able to stop feeling restless until this case was over and I knew for sure that Scully was out of danger. 

What I had to do now was find Scully and keep and eye on her. I also had to find a way to persuade Stan Carlbadier to let me take part of the stakeout team. And I knew that Agent Carlbadier was a though cookie to bite on. I was going to need an extremely good persuasion technique if I wanted to be on the case.

I checked my watch and noticed it was quarter to twelve. I wouldn't be able to make it to the office in time for the meeting, not with the lunch hour rush a few minutes away. A phone call would have to do. 

Problem is... I'm not that good persuading people on the phone. Then again, you can always blame misunderstandings on bad connections and bouts of static...

I dialled Carlbadier's office. Just my luck that he had already left for a meeting. But he had left a message for me. I had earned a couple of days off and should only come to the office if I came up with any other ideas about the killer. Other than that, I was out of the case.

I thanked the secretary and hung up. I was on my own on this one,  
which could be a far better fare than if I had to work under the orders of Stan Carlbadier. I could do as I pleased and wouldn't have to account for my actions to anyone.

And considering the way I felt about the whole thing, not being allowed to work due to my "emotional attachment" to the case might just be the best thing that could have happened. I started the car and headed for the club. To be able to keep an eye on Scully, I had to find her first, and I thought this was the most obvious place to start looking for her. My gut was betting 10 to nothing that I would find her there.

Damn my gut, my instincts and my insane need to protect her.

And damn my jeans. I should have brought my sweatpants. Who am I kidding? A circus tent would have proven to be too restricting the way things were going just then. God, talk about tents. No, Mulder - do yourself a favour - don't look down and think about any kind of tent. Oh shit. You see, I did find Scully at the club. And when I found her, I thought that I had died and gone to Heaven. It was only later that I realised that the truth was that I was slowly burning in Hell.

She was rehearsing. Candy was guiding her in a routine guaranteed to blow a few minds away. At least, it was blowing mine quite nicely.

So this is why I was standing in the shadows of the second floor, watching a petite redhead sway her hips in time with some erotic love song, shaking her head, eyes closed in concentration. If you watched real closely you could be able to see her tongue darting over her lips, as her hands slowly and sensuously caressed her thighs...

She was completely dressed. But her dancing was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen. Besides, she's the woman my heart had been aching for, the woman who could question my mind endlessly, the woman my body has lusted after for 5 years.

Maybe that's the reason why I was unwillingly but slowly rubbing myself, trying to relieve some of the pressure building inside my jeans. I was biting my lower lip to stifle my moans. I was fighting really hard to keep my self control.

But then her hands moved to her shirt and she started undoing the buttons. Unknowingly to her, she was also starting to undo my resistance.

I couldn't control my reactions anymore. I reached forward and gripped the railing hard. I opened my jeans and began stroking myself keeping rhythm with the music. Oh man, it felt good too. My breathing was picking up a little more. I was starting to pant, my mouth open.  
The shirt came off and underneath I saw the white cotton of a sports bra.

I let out a huffing sigh of relief. I wasn't sure I could handle any other kind of lingerie at the moment. I thought I was safe.

I thought I could get things back under control.

Until she began caressing her breasts.

Jesus...I...I really started to crank myself hard then. Couldn't help it. She has...her nipples were hard little...nubs...and she.  
was t-touch...all over...Oh FUCK!

When my mind returned from the O-zone, I still had the railing in a death grip. I'd sunk to my knees, weak as a kitten. Christ, I came hard. I closed my eyes tightly. I didn't dare glance over or down through the railing to see what Scully was doing. It might have killed me.

I needed to get out of there. Fast. Before I made a bigger fool out of myself. Before I decided to throw caution to the wind and confess my feelings for her, before taking her home with me. I fled when I felt desire stepping in again. 

Believe me, I fled.

OUTSIDE THE STARDUST NIGHTCLUB AUGUST 10 2:00 P.M.

I know Sarah is inside that place, that house of harlots, tower of sin. My heart bleeds just thinking about it. Her mother would die of shame if she knew, but, God merciful, she's already dead.

A tall guy left in a hurry a while ago. He seems somewhat familiar.  
Perhaps he was here last night, I don't know. I can't be sure.

But what I'm sure of is that he was hiding something. He was trying to hide his shameful behaviour. But the Lord sees it as well as I did. He had his sin written all over him. And if it wasn't enough,  
the bulge and wet spot in his crotch gave him away.

I know. I'm a God fearing man, but a man after all. And I know lust when I see it. Oh yes, I do. The bastard was inside letting the beast in him roam loose.

And something inside me tells me he was lusting after my Sarah. Using her as an object for his lowly passions. Perhaps he is the one who's been giving her all those fancy gifts.

Heaven help them if I catch them together. I swear to God I'll kill them both if I do. That's a promise.

And I never break my promises.

FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT AUGUST 10 4:54 P.M.

I sat rigidly on my couch, thinking. I got home 2 hours ago and spent almost one under the cold shower I so badly needed. I stayed under the water until I felt I had come to my senses again.

And now I was sitting here. And I was scared shitless. I felt like I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. Like I fucked-up big time. And the scariest part is that I'm such a coward, such a fucking coward, that I can't bring myself to admit why I was feeling like this.

Deep down I know why. Deep down I knew I had just blown my working, no, make that overall, relationship with Dana Scully. I know I'd never be able to look at her again, to talk to her again, without sex raising its ugly head over us. Thinking of her will get me carried away... touching her will, undoubtedly, be a sure-fire way to get an erection.

And I didn't think I was going to be able to live in perpetual arousal without loosing my mind. I'm so in love with her that it is getting to be physically painful. I might go crazy with wanton and lust and unrequited love...

But I'd never be able to tell her.

I'd turn my heart into stone, I'd bury my feelings deep within myself until I was sure they'd be lost forever. I was even willing to loose my soul, what little there was of it, and become a ghost of the human being I once was.

But I'd never tell her.

I couldn't.

Because telling her would open the doors of myself. And once I open those doors I wouldn't be able to close them again. Because once I bare my soul and heart to Scully, I wouldn't be able to have them back. I couldn't have them back. 

They'd belong to her. And I love her too much to burden her with them. I didn't want Scully to suffer because of me. I didn't want Scully to accept them out of pity or guilt. And I couldn't bear to hear her say she didn't want them.

I'd rather kill myself first than die at her feet from a broken heart. I still got some pride stored somewhere inside. I was going to have to rely on pride to continue living next to her.

I won't make a fool of myself showing Scully the depths of my desire for her. I won't embarrass her telling her about the ever-consuming force of my love for her. I won't let her pick around my brain. I won't allow her to gaze into my soul. I still got my pride.

And pride could be a very motivating force.

Very motivating, indeed.

I sighed and looked at my watch. It was almost six o'clock. In less than 3 hours Scully was going to start stripping in front of a room full of strangers, each of them a possible stalker, murderer or rapist. In less than 3 hours Scully could be in grave danger.

But she didn't need my protection. She's a trained FBI agent, capable of taking care of herself, capable of kicking butt. The night club will be swarming with undercover FBI agents from VCS ready to kill the first guy who tries to put a hand on her.

No, she didn't need my protection. She didn't need my disabled male ego trying to prove I could protect her. And she definitively didn't need my teenaged, hormonal libido hanging from her garter belt. 

What she needed is her peace of mind to concentrate on the task at hand. She needed to know she's doing her job well. She needed to feel she's proving her worth as an agent. She needed someone to tell her she's doing okay.

And while she didn't need a partner looking after her, and while she didn't need a lover making her anxious, she might as well need a friend to help her to her feet should she fall down and to pat her back when she succeeded. 

I respect and I trust her unconditionally, the way I'd never will trust a partner again. I lust after her, like the lover I would never become but will always dream to be.  
But I love her. Not as a man is capable of loving a woman. My love goes beyond that. I love the woman and I love the partner, but, if I had to choose, I'd rather love the friend.

And I had the feeling that she might need a friend tonight. And because I love Dana Scully, the friend, I was going back to that club. Even if it meant destroying my own heart in the process.

May God have mercy of my soul.

END RUBY 2/8 


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: RUBY (3/8)

AUTHOR:Ary adventure with an erotica twist and plenty of angst

SPOILERS:Up to Season 5, but definitively before 'The End'

KEYWORDS:MSR

SUMMARY:Mulder doing a profile, Scully working undercover, a bad guy roaming loose, and feelings best kept hidden come out in the open...

DISCLAIMERS: My name isn't Carter, so you know they're not mine

AUTHOR'S NOTES:We're still dealing with sex references and adult content in this part. Don't say I didn't warn you beforehand.

I'm not writing the lyrics to "Lady in Red.  
Guess that if you're old enough to be reading this,  
you're old enough to know that song.

OUTSIDE THE STARDUST NIGHT CLUB AUGUST 10 9:28 P.M.

I'm feeling a little better. Just a little. But I'm not betting on this comfort to last forever. I know darn well what is going to happen here tonight and I'm not at all happy with the idea. There're too many things at stake, far too many things that can go wrong for me to feel comfortable tonight.

Besides, I'm also feeling a little embarrassed. I've been here fifteen minutes and I've already recognised some 12 undercover FBI agents who work with Stan Carlbadier. If they've seen me, they have appeared not to notice.

But they're not stupid. Monday morning the whole building is going to be buzzing with the news... 'Spooky' Mulder was seen at a strip club! And he was there to watch how the demure 'Ice Queen' bared it all! Told you he had the hots for her! Told you they are having an affair!

Yeah... I've heard the rumours. Enough of them, anyway, to know that my fellow colleagues are a tad too interested in my relationship with Scully. I even heard there's an ongoing betting pool to be collected by the first who sees us kissing in public.

I believe that one as much as I believe the one that we got married at the hospital when Scully was dying of cancer. Seems that someone saw Father MacCue walk into her room while I was inside. I find it hard to believe that people have nothing else better to do than discuss if we're having a relationship or not.

Anyway, my presence here has surely rocked the rumour mill. Which is making me even more nervous. It's going to be somewhat difficult not making a fool of myself in front of all this guys when Scully comes out on stage. 

Maybe the sight of Scully stripping will get their minds away from my reactions. Curiously enough, I don't find that thought comforting; it's more like an irritating idea. I wonder how many of the guys in here will still be able to see the agent and not only the woman after tonight... probably not many.

And I feel angry and sad at the same time. Scully has fought so hard to show that she can play this game as well as all the other boys, and now all that effort is about to come tumbling down due to this absurd mission.

Knowing Scully, this was a risk she decided to take. For she's not only risking her physical integrity, she's also risking her reputation as an agent. I'm not sure whether Skinner and Carlbadier understood that when they asked her to do this.

And that brings me back to here, to now. I'd be lying if I said I'm not interested in watching her just wearing a tiny g-string, I'm human, after all. But I'm also here to back her up when she comes out of that dressing room and has to face the undercover team. No one would dare to say anything in her face, but I want to make sure no one says anything behind her back... at least, not tonight.

With that in mind, I walk inside the night club. I can only hope everything will turn out all right.

The minute I came into the night-club I began searching around for a tell-tale shade of red hair among the patrons. I notice two men with red hair sitting together in the middle of the room, and another one sitting with a larger party at the end of the stage.

I quickly dismiss the three of them as suspects. Our guy worked alone and he didn't seem the kind of person that would come with a group, then separate long enough to kill his victim, and rejoin the party as if nothing had happened. 

That scenario just didn't fit with the mental image nor with the internal profile I had of this guy. I was almost sure he was around.  
I could almost sense him... Call it a hunch or intuition, but I knew this guy was around, somewhere.

I also knew then and there that he wasn't going to sit down and enjoy the show. He would wait in the shadows until Scully was finished and then he would try to reach out for her.

And the only way he could get close to her was by placing a wager on her. Without much hesitation, I went straight to Mike, the bartender. I asked him if there was a way to make sure that no one, and I meant, no one, placed a wager on a dancer. He told me I could just pay a 200 dollar fee to put the particular dancer above wagers. But, he warned me, that didn't mean the dancer would want to go out with me.

I nodded my understanding as I reached for my wallet. I knew for sure that Scully would rather die (or shoot me) than accept my wager. But it never hurt to be on the really cautious side of things.

"Which dancer are you interested in, anyway?" he asked.

"Um. The new one. The redhead. Ruby."

Mike eyed me suspiciously, and turned to reach for a blue bottle behind him.

"You're only interested in her? We got this nice Italian chick that... "

"No, I'm only interested in Ruby."

Mike got the bottle and I got something cold and hard poked against my ribs. I was so worried about putting Scully at a safe distance from any other psycho that might be roaming the club tonight that I fell for the oldest trick in the surveillance/undercover book: an agreed signal among the agents and the possible target.

"Put your hands on the counter where I can see them."

I recognised Carlbadier's voice. "Easy Stan, it's only me."

Carlbadier's gun left my side as he turned me around "Christ, Mulder what the hell are you doing here? I told you yesterday that I didn't think it was appropriate for you to show up here."

"Why? Does it look like I'm working undercover or something?" I asked, attempting to sound convincing, and knowing darn well that I wasn't fooling anyone.

Stan Carlbadier sighed, defeated. He had worked with me before. He knew I was a lost cause. I guess he was also aware of the strong feelings I have towards my partner, or he wouldn't have mentioned the 'emotional attachment' on the first place.

"You're not going to make trouble around here, are you?" His voice was weary and I couldn't help but wonder how many hours had gone by since Stan Carlbadier slept. Well over twenty four was my educated guess. Which meant he was just too tired to try to argue with me.

"No, unless Tom Colton shows up and attempts to do something stupid"  
When in doubt, mumble. When in trouble, go for the amusing remark, for the lighter side of things. If it didn't get you off the hook, at least you bought yourself some time to get out of a tight spot while the others try to figure out what you meant by it.

Carlbadier chuckled at this. "Always the same "Spooky" Mulder, right?"

"You know what they say: once a spook, always a spook." Humour seemed to be working just fine.

"Be a good boy and stay out of this, ok? Mingle with the crowd, have a good time, get drunk if you feel like it... but leave Scully alone, ok?"

"Just answer a couple of questions and I'll be out of your way." 

"Shoot." Maybe I should warn Stan about saying that particular phrase in front of Scully. Then again, he still hadn't done anything to deserve becoming Scully's practice target.

"What makes you so sure the killer is going to show up here tonight?  
How can you know he'll bite the bait and go for Scully? I mean, his attacks have been so random that it's hard to pinpoint where he'll strike next."

"I sent a couple of guys out yesterday morning to distribute fliers announcing the Stardust newest sensation, Ruby. They covered all the areas where this guy has appeared. They even posted some larger adds in the alleys. We can only hope it'll interest him enough as to show up here. Next question?"

"How are you planning to spot the guy? I mean, he's not walking around carrying a sign saying "I'm the Redhead Killer" or something"  
Though I tried to make the question come across as a light joke, we both knew it was anything but.

Stan just smiled at my attempt for lightness. "Now that I think of it, your profile didn't mention anything about a sign... Seriously, Mulder. Our friend Mike here is the only one who can accept wagers. He's to notify us if anyone shows an unusual interest in Agent Scully."

"So that's what the trick with the blue bottle was about?" I asked, although I already knew the answer to that one.

"Precisely. Don't worry, Mulder. He won't get near her. We won't let him. I won't let him." We looked at each other for a few seconds, and I got the feeling that this man has just given me his word of honour, something he didn't do often or in vain.

I felt like shaking hands with him, but instead of that I just shrugged my shoulders and remained silent. I watched as Carlbadier turned around and went back to sit at the end of the bar, where he could see Mike's signal.

I asked Mike for a screwdriver and wandered into the club, looking for a place to sit. I spotted an empty stool just two places away from the central stage and claimed it for myself. I casted long sideways glances on both sides, but it seemed like I was the oddball between two different parties. This suited my plans just fine. I wasn't in the mood for small talk, anyway.

I settled down and prepared for the wait. 

I still can't believe half the things that happened tonight. Everything happened so fast that my head is still spinning and I can't still figure out what the hell was going on. I've come across x-files whose occurrences were far more simpler than what happened in here tonight. I still can't believe it.

And this from the guy who has an "I want to Believe" poster in his office, and who seeks the truth as a way of life.

Weird.

I remember telling you that I sat on a stool and got prepared to wait until something happened. Turns out I didn't have to wait long.

Fifteen minutes after I sat down, I felt a hand on my shoulder. A female hand. If I had to be 100 honest my stomach did a double flip for about 7 seconds. By then I knew it wasn't her hand. I'd know her touch anywhere.

Looking up, I noticed it's Candy's hand. The blond woman looked at me, not really smiling, but amused. I also noticed that whatever it was she was feeling, it did not reach her eyes. And it made me nervous as hell. It felt like a very bad omen.

"You Ruby's friend?" she asked. I nodded, not knowing how to answer correctly.

"She wants to talk to you." And, with that, Candy turned to leave. I got the idea, and got up to follow her.

The guys on both my sides were looking at me enviously. I told the one on the left to save the seat for me and I followed Candy backstage.

She motioned me silently into one dressing room. I paused before going in. I mentally braced myself for whatever confrontation might have awaited for me inside. Drawing a huge breath, I knocked on the door.

"It's open" came Scully's reply. From her tone of voice, I figured she wasn't happy to have me around. I opened the door and stepped inside. Scully's back was to the door,  
and she's reclined on a chair. The muscles in her back looked so tense one could think they'd burst any moment. Had the circumstances been any different I would have tried to give her a massage, kneading deeply into those knots that seemed to be plaguing her...

Time for a reality check... Scully would have probably shot me if I had come within a foot from her just then.

"Mulder, what are you doing here? I told you before I don't need your protection", she asked, without even turning to face me. I didn't need to look at her face to know just how upset she is about my being there.

But... what could I tell her? A lie? Or would it be better if I finally behaved like an adult and told her the truth? I leaned against the wall and stuffed my hands in my pockets before replying.

"I didn't come here to protect you, Scully. You don't need my protection. You're a grown woman, and a trained FBI agent. If anything should happen tonight, you'd be more than capable of handling it yourself ... and, should you need help, you have a dozen undercover agents outside more than willing to start a shootout. So I don't think you need my protection."

I could hear her sharp breath intake. I guess she wasn't prepared for my answer. Heck, I wasn't prepared for it, either.

" You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

I got to handle it to Scully. She never looses her composure. And she went straight for the jugular. As usual.

" I came here tonight because I thought you might need a friend." I knew I was risking a lot by telling her this, by letting so much of my true feelings for her shine trough, but I was desperate to keep our communication open. So many things have been left unsaid in the last few months that I'm afraid one of these days the walls holding them in will crumble and we'll end up saying something we would definitively regret later.

" A... friend." A pause. Just that. I wasn't getting any other kind of reaction from her, and I couldn't help thinking when did things between us began to go so wrong. There had been a time when even her pauses were full of meaning, with a complex language in themselves.  
All I was getting then was a blank.

5 years of work developing our infamous psychic communication all go down the drain. I don't think she had been able to fully understand what I've told her, and as sure as hell I didn't have the slightest idea of what was going on inside her head.

The silence was making me uncomfortable. I shifted on my feet, carefully considering what to do next. Scully hadn't even flinched at my statement and was certainly taking a long time to say something. I finally gave up.

"Sorry Scully. I guess I was mistaken. I'd better go now. See you on Monday, then." I turned around to leave.

"Wait."

I paused with my hand on the doorknob... my heart missed a beat or two while I waited for her to continue. I didn't dare to hope for her acceptance, and yet, I was doing just that. Hoping against hope.  
Always a believer of lost causes.

" I-I'm sorry, Mulder. I'm just nervous as hell for having to do this. I really appreciate your concern but... "

This was it, then. She's leaving me out in the cold. Again. Like she did when she found out she had cancer. Or when Emily died. Or after her near-death experience in that bridge. Once more we're back to being a couple of strangers living in a not-so-agreeable silence. Barely partners and certainly not friends. Again.

"But I guess I didn't expect your friendship offering at a moment like this."

I was still not moving. I couldn't. I needed to hear what she had to say. My whole existence depended on it. Maybe there was hope for us, after all.

"I'd really like it if you stayed around a while. Maybe we could grab a coffee afterwards... " Her voice was calm and almost expressionless. I knew that tone of voice. It belonged to the always professional Dr. Dana Scully.

I turned around and tried to catch a glimpse of her expression, but it was no use. Scully knew as well as I did that, while I wasn't being able to read her voice or body language, I could still read her eyes.  
And they speak louder than everything else when she is under stress or in pain. They betray the best of her lies, her most composed attitude, her deepest fears. She knew it and she hid them from me.  
Perhaps it was a wise decision. I don't think I would have been able to deal with whatever it was that I might have found in them just then.

"Now, please go, Mulder. I need to finish my make-up."

A stern, Skinner-like "dismissed" wouldn't have been as clear as her words. I let out a sigh (relief? regret? or maybe I was just holding my breath?), and left the dressing room, feeling a little bit less unsettled than when I had gone in. Perhaps there was still hope for us, after all.

So many different ideas and emotions were swirling up inside me that I chose to shove everything down until I had more time to analyse them. I just knew one thing for certain: after that night, my relationship with Scully would never be the same again. For better or for worse. The stakes were high, and the bets had already been called. Nothing left for me but to wait and see what hand would fate deal for me. For us.

I'm so angry I can feel my blood boiling. The same lanky fellow from this morning has just emerged from her dressing room. Not that her name is on the door or something like that, but I can sense her.

Sarah. My Sarah. Getting ready to stand naked before the lustful sinning eyes of dozens of strangers.

I might have been able to forgive this indiscretion. After all, all women are the same, always wanting to hear nice words about how good and how young and how pretty they look. For God so fit to curse them with the sin of vanity since the birth of Eve.

But this shameless flaunting of her lover for all the world to see, I can not condone it. Mine is not the rage of the cheated husband, nor the anger derived from a shredded honour. Revenge won't be exacted to satisfy my aching male ego, or the punishment set as an example for all sinners to see.

Killing them both will be an act of justice, both human and divine. I shall be both judge and executor, avenging common decency and the tarnishing of the word of the Lord.

I relished the image of finding them together, of seeing her eyes widen in realisation of what had she done. Watching him trying to explain the unexplainable, to justify the unjustifiable. To try to talk his way out of the mess his carnal weakness had got him into.

He will surely tell me he didn't know she was a married woman. He will undoubtedly try to convince me that it was her fault, that I as a man know what it is like when the heat of the flesh is unbearable.  
He will possibly try to bribe me into letting him go unharmed.

And he will fail in all accounts.

For I will kill them both.

Tonight.

I went back to my seat. Miraculously, it's still empty. The guy on the right started telling jokes about me having a hot date after the show. I gave him my best "drop-dead" stare and he eventually got the message and shut up.  
And not a minute too soon. Just as he became quiet, the announcer introduced "the new Stardust sensation, the one and only, Ruby". The announcement was greeted with cheers, wolf whistles and loud applause and a very un-rational part of me felt somewhat proud. Not many guys can say that their woman attracts so much attention.

My woman. Who am I kidding? Scully is as mine as the elusive truth I have been searching for half my life. I may be totally hers, alright, but that's quite different.  
"That your lady friend?" whispered the guy on my left. I grunted an affirmative answer and thought I detected a note of envy and something that seemed like a new-found respect for me. It has always struck me as funny how having a gorgeous woman by your side changes the way you're perceived by your peers. As if having been able to conquer such a desirable female somehow validated you as a human being. Who knew? Maybe Scully was indeed my human credential, after all.

"You're a lucky sonofabitch, you know that?" This time there was a definitive note of jealousy in his voice.

I couldn't help but smile at that one. Yep, her brother thinks so,  
too. Not that I'm lucky, though. Just the part about being a sonofabitch. A sorry sonofabitch. I know I deserve that one. All in all, Bill Scully behaved very gentlemanly. Had it been my sister the one agonising in that bed, I would have killed the bastard responsible for it with my own bare hands.  
The music began to play. The tune sounded familiar somehow, and I decided it must be an old song if I could recognise it. "Lady in Red". How becoming.  
And, suddenly, there she was. A vision in red. My heart jumped and skipped and soared. She's perfect to my eyes and to my soul. Achingly beautiful and distant. Ethereal. I could spend the rest of my life just looking at her. 

Scully was starting to sway to the music. The red kimono robe opened a little with every step she took. I caught a glimpse of her stockings and the garter belt. My mouth went dry, and I could feel the beginning of an erection start growing again, against my will.  
I know. I know. I'd been mentally preparing myself for this since I left the boutique this morning. But my rationalisation wasn't as good as I thought. Heck, even my late night fantasies have fallen short.  
But nothing, no rationalisation, no cognitive knowledge, not even my wildest dreams (wet dreams, if I should be totally honest), could have prepared me for this. My arousal was reaching limits I thought I had reached a long time ago. But I was wrong. There seemed to be no limits to what Scully could do to me. Just looking at her moving in time to that slow sensuous song was driving me wild with wanton. I was experiencing for the first time the sweet torture of physical desire for the woman you love.  
As I stared with my mouth open, Scully proceeded to undo the sash of the robe. The darn piece of cloth fell slowly to her sides. The crowd went wild, cheering her on, applauding, shouting encouraging words for her to bare it all.

I just sat there, petrified. All traces of rational thought were quickly abandoning my brain, while feelings were taking over my whole self. Love, lust, awe ... I didn't even try to sort them out. It would have been impossible.  
Off went the robe. Scully stood still for a second, waiting for the right note to continue her stripping number. But a second was all that I needed to permanently imprint her image in my memory. She was now mine forever. I started taking a mental inventory of the goddess dancing not 6 feet away from me... 

Shit. I'd turned Scully into a deity. I'd never be able to work with her again. Ever. I had the distinct feeling that I had really fucked up our partnership this time.  
And this time it really wasn't my fault. And it wasn't her fault either. On second thought, this could be her fault. She knew I would hunt her down until I found her. She had to know. She knows me better than anyone, she knows me better than myself, sometimes.  
So, if she knew I was coming, she shouldn't have chosen this attire. She even had the chance to stop me from watching her performance back there in her dressing room. She .  
Whom am I trying to kid? Scully didn't have the slightest chance to stop me. She knew it, I knew it. That's why she didn't try to stop me. Once I make up my mind, not even a freight train at full speed could stop me.  
And I definitively had my mind made up on this particular issue .  
But still, she could have chosen to wear something a little bit more demure ... Yeah. Sure. She's supposed to be a stripper, what did I expect? A flannel night-gown? Scully was wearing what she should be wearing to keep up her cover. I was the one who's having a hard time with it.  
Maybe hard wasn't the most appropriate word at the moment. Difficult.  
Impossible. Hard was something I already was. Crude? Yes. But I've never been one to ignore the truth. And the truth was that Dana Scully had got me so hard I thought I was going to burst.  
And I still had my eyes glued to her feet. It was all I could do to avoid loosing my restraint. But my libido, my damn fucking libido decided to make his triumphal entrance in that precise moment. 

Well, sanity, it was nice knowing you.  
I couldn't stay watching at her feet forever. Consciously or unconsciously I was going to take a look at the nude body of my partner and best friend. And, given the choice, I'd much rather do it in a conscious way. Therefore, I began the journey into my self-destruction.  
I gazed at her shoes. High heeled and the shade of blood and, by the looks of it, quite expensive. I'd never imagine I'd get to see Dana Scully on a pair of stiletto heels, but I guessed tonight will put an end to all my "nevers" regarding her.  
I looked up a little higher. She's got great legs. I mean, it's not like they go on forever, like model legs, but hers are strong and lean and well-formed, and those heels were doing wonders for them. Either that, or the satiny-like sheer of the stockings she was wearing.  
I kept working my way up. Those smooth and shiny stockings were held in place by a lace garter-belt, which in turn gave way to... oh God. I had stumbled across her g-string, what little there was of it, anyway. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.  
It was just too much for me to handle at that time. I decided to avoid that tempting lace and satin imagery and to settle on her belly. I tried getting lost in her belly button, but I couldn't concentrate properly anymore.  
I decided to skip her breasts all-together. Not that it was easy, though. Funny how I had never noticed how full they are. And they looked so soft and beckoning encased in that red satin bra. As if they were begging to be released. I surprised myself when I noticed my fingers had been tracing small circles on the bar surface. My hands were aching to touch and caress her breasts and to softly arouse her nipples.  
I shook my head to clear my thoughts in an attempt to restrain the urge that was searing my whole body. I lifted my gaze once more and settled on her neck to prevent it form wandering downwards. I have touched it enough times as to feel I had reached a comfortable place,  
a warm, welcoming place in her body. I have always been fascinated by the way the soft curve of Scully's neck blends into her collarbone. It's so graceful, and yet, it has a certain force you can fail to notice at first sight. Delicate enough that you can see her pulse beating underneath it. I have lost track of the times I have wanted to kiss her in that spot, feeling her pulse come alive under my lips.  
My eyes darted towards her mouth. Oh, God, I love her mouth! A mouth made to be kissed and nibbled and sucked and ravished. More than once I've imagined how her mouth would look after a hungry and passionate kiss, her lips swollen and slightly open. And she's got these pouty, full lips that look so tempting, even when she's not wearing lipstick. Not that I'm complaining tonight. She has on this fiery shade of red, making them look fuller, more luscious than usual.  
You see, Scully has this little habit that would be annoying if it wasn't so endearing. It is that sexy nervous tic of licking her lips when she's nervous. It can be terribly arousing, even more due to the fact that she's not doing it in order to seduce me. But that's exactly what it does for me. This habit of hers has driven me crazy more times than I've cared to count. More than once I have lost track of what I was trying to tell her because of it. Her tongue on her lips makes me ache to feel it on mine, inside my mouth, running it along my jawline and down my throat. If I were to be perfectly honest, I would have to say that I had already envisioned that sweet tongue of hers caressing the length of my shaft. That's got to show how deeply engraved in my fantasies is this woman that I love.

What makes all this more bittersweet is the fact that she doesn't know how much power she has over me. She has no idea how long it has been since that morning in the office when I looked up and instead of seeing Agent Scully I saw a beautiful woman named Dana. She's actually clueless to the fact that she drives me wild with desire.

Which was what she was doing to me right then. I was so aroused that I was literally gasping for breath as I saw her wet her lips with her tongue one more time.

To make matters worse, she had decided to highlight the beauty mark above her upper lip. I've never understood why she chooses to hide it under her make-up. Come to think of it, it's probably better that she does. I wouldn't be able to concentrate if I had to look at it every time I talk to her.  
I then decided to risk it all and take a look at her eyes.  
Shit. Oh fuck. I was doomed.  
Scully was looking straight at me.

END RUBY (3/8) 


	4. Chapter 4

TITLE:RUBY (4/8)

AUTHOR:Ary Season 5 ... but if you read fanfic you know most of them by now. Let's just say it takes place sometime before 'The End'.

KEYWORDS: Erotic thriller (or so I've been told by my kind betareaders)

SUMMARY:Mulder, while trying to protect an undercover Scully from a psychopath, discovers that he forgot to protect his heart...

DISCLAIMER:You all know who this guys belong to, I can only take credit for Stan Carlbadier.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:Angst ahead. And, we're still dealing with adult issues and sex references. You've been warned.

STARDUST NIGHT CLUB AUGUST 10 10:30 P.M.

I'm a wreck. I'm a total, absolute wreck. Now I finally feel I deserve that 'Spooky' nickname. I'm scaring even myself as it is.  
And it hasn't been an easy task.

I'm definitively headed for a nervous breakdown. This time I'm certain I have reached the end of my rope. My sanity rope, that is.  
I've finally lost it, and it wasn't a mutant, or a Reticulan, or one of those mysterious 'men in black' from the government who should be held responsible for my demise.

Turns out Professor McAddy was absolutely right about my fate. The only thing that could bring Fox Mulder down was Fox Mulder himself.  
With a little help from his partner. His female partner. No wonder the Professor had been so adamant about my working with a woman. But it's too late for regrets now.

I never thought Scully would upset my carefully studied composure with such a simple gesture as staring into my eyes. Except that it wasn't so simple. And I didn't have that much composure to begin with.

She had caught me staring at her while she performed her stripping act. And you don't have to be a genius to figure out what she saw in my eyes. Pure and primal desire. I'm a man, after all. I had broken the Bureau's 3rd Commandment, thou shall not lust after thy partner. So sue me, I'm only human.

But back to what happened that night at the club. While I was busy undressing my partner with my gaze, she had been busy watching me as I watched her. And only when I managed to tear my eyes from her body is when I noticed that she knew I was doing it. I felt like the kid who got caught with his hands inside the cookie jar, but somehow that comparison lacks certain strength. I felt more like the guy who has been caught with his pants down while pursuing some extramarital interests.

And I blushed. Heck, that's an understatement. I could feel my cheeks burning in a mixture of embarrassment and lust. I must have been quite a sight. Heavy breathing, dried lips, eyes full of wanton, T-shirt drenched in sweat... the perfect image of a guy caught in a hormonal frenzy.

And Scully never dropped her gaze. She didn't falter, not for a second. Her facial expression was totally neutral. Whatever it was that she was feeling was so guarded, that even I couldn't read it.

Without skipping a beat, she undid the clasp of her push-up bra. And then, she removed it. Very slowly. Her hands were caressing the exposed skin, just as she did during the rehearsal. And her eyes never left mine.  
I was breathing in ragged gasps by then. My throbbing erection was painfully pushing against my jeans, and I couldn't bring myself to do anything to relieve the pressure.

Clyde Bruckman said that I'd probably die from autoerotic asphyxiation. I wonder if my present situation could be catalogued as that particular condition. 

Scully is still looking at me. I'm transfixed by her gaze. She bites her lower lip. I shudder. Her hands are now caressing her thighs. My hands are holding the glass as if my life depended on it.

It is then that she turns around. And I catch my breath again. I had completely forgotten about her tattoo. Her "revelation" is met with whistles and wolf howls. Scully throws a look at me over her shoulder, trying to assess my reaction.

I can't stand it any longer. If I keep holding the glass like this I'll end up breaking it. I got up abruptly and headed for the men's room. Never once did I look back at Scully. I didn't dare. I couldn't. If I looked at her again I might have done something I'm sure I'd regret the rest of my life. So I kept on going without looking back.

Once inside the bathroom I splashed cool water on my face and arms. It wasn't enough to subdue my desire, but damn if I was going to masturbate in this place. I took deep breaths and pressed my forehead against the cold tiles of the wall.

I heard the door open and I watched as Carlbadier walked in. Great. Just what I needed. Well, I guess there goes my reputation as a cool guy. I was anything but right then. And you didn't need to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out, either.

"Mulder?" Stan's voice was hesitant.

"Yeah?" I tried to sound at least twice as confident as I looked. Which wasn't that much to begin with, anyway.

"Are you in trouble now?"

I laughed out loud. I couldn't help it. Not that it was funny.

"Yeah... I guess you could say that... " I tried hard not to snort my answer, but it was somewhat difficult.

"Does she know?" This time he sounded concerned. His tone of voice was starting to make me feel uneasy.

I shot Carlbadier a glance. I wasn't sure I was following his line of thought.

"What are you talking about?" This came a little bit harsher than I intended, but I couldn't have cared less...

Carlbadier just sighed. "Does Dana Scully know that you're in love with her?"

"What!" If I hadn't been so embarrassed about the whole situation I'd be enraged by his question. Back then I only felt surprise and shock for letting my feelings be so obvious. I had finally got careless and the careful facade of professionalism that I had built around my feelings for Scully was falling to pieces.

"Oh, come on, Mulder, cut the bullshit. You know you love her. It's written all over your face. The way you were looking at her... "

I felt the urge to save some face. The only thing I wanted to do was take what little left was of my dignity and hobble out of the place.  
And fast.

"Yeah, me and the other 200 guys out there... " I replied, my voice oozing with sarcasm.

"Mulder, the other 200 guys were leering at her, lusting after her. They'll forget her the minute the next dancer steps into that stage. But you... you were regarding her with a mixture of adoration and awe... "

"That's a long way from love, pal."

Flat-out denial. You don't work for the Federal government for over a decade and not learn to exercise it.

"Is that so?" Carlbadier gave me this amused look and I experienced an overwhelming need to justify my actions.

"Look, Stan. Scully is a great agent. Heck, she's the best agent I've ever worked with. She is a beautiful woman, as well. What am I supposed to do? Not notice it? Christ, you'd need to be blind not to notice it!"

"I'm not telling you that you're an idiot for not noticing it. Hell, Mulder, I had 58 agents wanting to come out here tonight, and that included three female agents! I already confiscated 3 video cameras and suspended 6 agents for unbecoming behaviour."

I couldn't help but smile at this. "Are you planning to suspend me too?"

"You're officially not here, so I can't do that. Honestly, Mulder, do you think it was wise of you to show up here tonight?" 

Once again, Stan's voice was filled with concern. It threw me out of balance. For years my motto had been to trust no one. Then along came Scully and I had let her in, closing the door shut as soon as she got inside. The paranoiac side of me said I didn't need to trust anyone else. But my gut instinct was telling me I could count on Stan Carlbadier to stand by my side, no matter what.

Worst thing of all, he was right. Coming into the club that night had been a mistake. A very big mistake.

I bowed my head, defeated. "No. It was probably the most stupid thing I could have done."

"What are you planning to do now?"

Now, THAT was an interesting question. Too bad I didn't have a fucking clue on how to answer it.

"Honestly? I don't know."

Carlbadier moved closer and put a hand on my shoulder. "Mulder, we're not exactly friends, I know. But I do appreciate you and I admire the partnership you and Scully have developed. I'm way out of line here trying to give you some advise, but I definitively think you need to define the nature of your feelings for her. Why don't you do everyone a favour and marry her?"

I stared at Stan Carlbadier as if he were an alien. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Ok. Mulder. Have it your way. But I know what I saw. You're hiding in here trying to get a grip on your physical reactions before meeting her outside. You left the show before she finished stripping out of respect for her. And she had eyes for no one else but you. And her eyes spoke volumes. If that's not love, then as sure as hell I don't know what it is. But suit yourself. It's not my life. I just feel you owe it to her to figure what is going on in your heart. You two deserve to be happy. Don't let stupid bureau regulations screw your chance at happiness."

I sighed deeply. "If only it were that easy... "

"Just think about it, ok?" Carlbadier turned around to leave. "And, Mulder? As far as I'm concerned, you were never here."

"Why are you doing this, Stan?" I hated the suspiciousness in my voice, but I couldn't help it

"Like I said before, I appreciate you. And her. And I really enjoy pissing Colton off." Carlbadier smiled as he held the door open. "Besides, I'm betting well over 500 bucks that you two'll end at the altar... I'd really like to get my money's worth on that particular bet."

And with that, he was gone. 

STARDUST NIGHT CLUB AUGUST 10 11:05 P.M.

I feel like an idiot.

One minute everything was okay, and the next everything is absolutely wrong.

The worst part is, I don't know what the hell happened.

I remember leaving the bathroom after my conversation with Stan Carlbadier. I'm still not sure if I should thank him or shoot him.

I never thought that my feelings for Scully were so ... well, so obvious. I know I've been in love with her for a long time. I'm not really sure how long. It took me a long time to realise it, though. It wasn't until that night in the hospital, when she lay there dying from cancer, that I realised this woman was the most important part of my life.

Given the choice, I'd rather have Scully than my sister. And it is a choice I already made.

But this was supposed to be something no one else knew about. I guess I was wrong. It seems like half of the Bureau knows about it. And the other half is placing bets on it. 

How stupid can you get? How blind can you be? How come everyone but her knows I love her? How can she not know? And why hasn't she done something about it? 

You know why No, I don't Whom are you trying to kid?  
Talk about living in denial.  
You want to know why she hasn't done anything? Do you?  
You know why She doesn't love you, Fox Mulder Why would she love you? You're a loser You're worthless You couldn't even protect your sister You don't deserve love You don't deserve her She doesn't love you She never will

No, no no ... no!

I smashed my fists against the wall. I couldn't let my inner demons take over. I couldn't. If I kept listening to them I'd definitively go crazy. Not that it would take much. I've been threading the fine line between reason and insanity for a while now. And there was only one thing that's kept me sane.

Scully. She's my anchor, my bastion, my home. My beginning and my end. My strength and my weakness. My heart, my soul, my inner self. 

I don't want to loose her. I can't loose her. 

I can't stand it anymore. I know I promised I'd never tell her my true feelings. Fuck that promise. I needed to tell her. And I needed to know what she felt.

If she didn't love me, or if she didn't care for me, fine. I'd rather die tonight than agonise for another couple of years. I'd rather make a fool of myself and damn to hell our present relationship. I could live with it. What I couldn't live with is going on without telling her. Not knowing for sure. 

And if she loved me ...

It's funny. I don't know what I'll do if she loves me.

Kiss her Hold her Make love to her Marry her Be happy. Be finally happy

I sigh. It seems that, after all, I do know what I'll do if she does love me. Whoever said you can't fool yourself was definitively not a psychologist. We perfected self-denial. Heck, we "invented" self-denial!

I stand outside her dressing room, mustering enough courage to knock on her door.

"Scully?"

"Go away, Mulder"

I'm shocked at this response. "Why?"

"I don't want to see you."

"Scully, please, open the door. We need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about"

I could feel my heart tearing. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. I stood closer to the door. "Scully, please. Talk to me. Don't leave me standing outside. Please"

No response. I could hear her trying to stifle her sobs. I'm such a bastard. How could I do this to her? "Scully, please. Forgive me. I-I shouldn't have come. Please. Let me in. I promise I'll try to make things better..."

Still no response for her. What the hell. I've ruined everything so far, why not screw it up for good? "Scully? Please let me in. I need to talk to you. Please? Dana? You don't have to say anything, just listen to me, ok? And then I'll go. I promise. Please. Don't leave me out here. I need to tell you the truth. You have to know the truth. Please, Dana. I...I love you, Scully. Please let me in..."

Nothing but silence greeted my words. I sighed and leaned against the door. I had given it my best shot, and it hadn't been good enough. I didn't know what else to do.

I heard a commotion down the corridor. I turned around just in time to see Stan Carlbadier and another agent running towards me.

"Stan, what's going on?"

"We had the guy, but he knocked Williams and ran away. Where's Scully?"

"In there" I motioned towards the still closed door, "Is there anything I can do to ..."

"Got you gun?" I nodded, reaching for my ankle holster "Then stay with her! We're following him through the alleys. And keep an eye out for him. White male 25-35, about 5'10" and 160 pounds. Red hair, green eyes, scar on the left cheek"

And with that, both agents were gone. I took a mental note on the suspect. Except form the scar, it was more less what I had expected when I did his profile. I turned back to the door.

"Scully? Did you hear that? Our suspect is around here"

Silence. I was beginning to get nervous.

"Scully?" I tried turning the knob. It wouldn't turn. I considered my options. I took two steps back and kicked the door open.

I went inside, holding my gun and looking to both sides. "Scully?" She was nowhere inside. A quick glance at the dressing room told me she was gone. 

I began searching the connecting rooms. Empty. I checked the back door. Closed and locked. I retraced my steps and stumbled into Candy.

"Where is she?" I demanded

"Ruby?" she asked, sort of confused

"Yes, Ruby. Where is she?" I was practically barking at this woman.

"Why, she left a few minutes ago ... she seemed a little bit upset."

Figures, I thought harshly to myself. "Which way did she go?"

"She went through the stage door." Candy said, pointing to an entrance on the right side.

I nodded my acknowledgement and headed for the door.

"But you shouldn't worry about her much. I mean, her brother came to pick her up."

I felt a chill run down my spine. "Her brother?"

"Well, I guess it was her brother. I mean, how many redheads can you meet on the same day?"

I dashed towards the door, leaving a bewildered Candy behind me.

END RUBY (4/8) 


	5. Chapter 5

TITLE:RUBY (5/8)  
AUTHOR:Ary GH RATING:NC-17 CATEGORY: SRA

For spoilers, keywords, summary, disclaimers and author's notes, please check Part 1

WARNING:Violence, graphic verbal and physical abuse, plenty of foul language. We're dealing with a seriously disturbed psychopath in this section.

ALLEYS BEHIND THE STARDUST AUGUST 10 11:15 P.M.

I know I shouldn't have claimed it was self-defence.

According to the regulations, I should have waited at least 30 seconds before shooting, and I had to give the suspect a warning shot. Fuck the regulations.

It wasn't self-defence, either. But he was hurting Dana Scully. In my books, that's a federal offence. One punishable by death.

In other words, I shot the bastard without warning. But I did everyone involved a favour and claimed it was self-defence. There are only two people to say it wasn't so, and one of them is dead. Scully is so grateful that it is over that she doesn't give a damn about my statement. For all she cares, I gave the guy the whole Miranda before I even pulled out my gun.

It's all right by me. Really. Except it isn't over. It really is far from over.

I'm driving her home once this whole business of statements is finished. And then we're going to have the nice little chat we should have had by now.

And Dana Katherine Scully is going to have to answer to me this time around. She'd better not try to run away, cause I'm not going to let her go. No this time. Not ever.

Never again.

I stumbled out of the Stardust, my gun in my hand, my heart beating wildly. I looked right and left, trying to ascertain which way could the killer have gone.

I was scared shitless. This guy wasn't merciful. On the contrary, he was quite vicious. And fast. I figured I had half and hour, forty-five minutes tops, to find Scully and nail the bastard. I didn't want to think of what would happen if I was late.

Following instinct rather than logic, I chose to go to the left, keeping my back to the wall. I kept glancing over my shoulder hoping to see any other agents. I kicked myself mentally for not bringing my cell phone, but I didn't expect I would need it. 

Some FBI Agent you make What did you expect? He wasn't using his head You bet he was. Except he was using the wrong head.  
Yeah ... party time!  
Shut the fuck up!

Gross. I needed to get a grip if I wanted to help Scully.  
Ha. I couldn't even get a grip on the tug-o-war that was going inside my head. Pathetic. Really pathetic.

The layout behind the Stardust reminded me of a labyrinth.  
The back street gave way to 10, maybe 15, alleys both left and right. I noticed that some of them led into another alley. My mind was racing. There was no way I was going to be able to search the whole damn place in less than half an hour.

The only thing that gave me hope was his MO. He had always killed his victim in a ratio of, approximately, three blocks from where he had taken them. Therefore, he had to be around here, somewhere. He HAD to.

A flash of red caught my eye at the entrance of another alley to my left. It was a piece of clothing. I recognised it almost immediately. In my hands I was holding the front pocket of Scully's robe.

Glancing back one last time I went into the alley. No backup for me this time. Perhaps it would be for the best.  
If I was late I didn't want witnesses. If I had failed Scully for the last time, I'd shoot the bastard and then I'd shoot myself.

Coward Martyr Wimp Weakling What did you expect?

Funny how this last voices reminded me of my dad ...

Who cares? As much as I seemed to enjoy my guilt-trips,  
I could never live with this specific one. I could never go on living without her, period.

When I joined the FBI I thought nothing would hurt me more than loosing my sister. Now I know I was wrong. As much as Sam's disappearance created a havoc in my life, nothing was more devastating than loosing Scully. Not once, but twice. Duane Barry and cancer. And now a third time.

There was only a certain amount of grief and heartache a man could bear. I've met my quota for this and two other lifetimes. I don't think I could resist another blow.  
And yet ...

I'll have to. Scully doesn't want to talk to me. She doesn't love me. And I'll have to learn to live with that. That is, if I get to live at all after this.

I hear a voice coming from the second alley and my body tenses. I also hear noises and a muffled groan. I'd recognise that sound anywhere. It's a sound that breaks my heart over and over again.

I had found Scully. And she was alive.

Carefully approaching the entrance of this second alley, I begin making out the words I'm hearing.

"Sarah, Sarah, what am I going to do with you? You keep running away every time I find you, and every time I find you again. Won't you ever learn? Can't you understand?  
There's nowhere to go. You're mine"

The voice is strained, yet calm. It reminds me of an adult scolding a little child that's misbehaved badly.

I peer into the alley. A couple of boxes at the entrance give me some nice coverage, without blocking my view entirely. And abandoned car is lying some ten feet from me. Huddled against it is Scully. She's gagged and handcuffed and her right eye is rapidly swelling.

I feel anger boiling up inside me. The bastard hit her, harmed her. And then he comes into view. Although he's a couple of inches shorter than me, he seems to tower over her. I'm about to open my mouth to give my FBI speech when I notice the switchblade in his left hand.

He's too close to Scully. He might try to attack her. Make that a will. He will attack her if he feels he's treathened. And he could very well fatally wound her before I put a bullet or two trough him. I couldn't risk it.

"Oh, Sarah. Why do you do this? Isn't my love for you enough? Why do you keep running away from me?", his voice is now wounded, hurt. He's stroking Scully's hair ever so gently, a loving gesture. 

But then he turns violent. He grabs her shoulder and smashes her against the car. Scully winces and I cringe inside. He's too close to her, I can't risk taking a shot at him now ...

"Slut! Whore! Two-face lying bitch! I gave you everything I had and then some more, and what do I get back for it? Nothing! Absofuckinglutely nothing! And why? Because I married a whore! A slut who's got pussy for brains!"

He was getting mad now. I could see him digging his fingers into Scully's shoulders and screaming right at her face. I could try and shoot him on the forehead, but my present angle is all wrong. To get a clean shot I'll need to get out from behind these boxes, making my presence known to him. 

But the way he was holding the hunting knife made me hesitate. It was too close to her neck. Even if it was the perfect shot he could slash her while dropping dead. 

On the other hand, he was so worked up by now that he was going to attack her very soon. I had to make up my mind. Fast.

"How could you? Why do you do it? Why do you have to leave our house and our children every chance you get to go looking for a man? Why do you need to do it?"

He was close to crying now. As weird as it may sound, I felt sorry for him. Whomever this Sarah was, or had been, she had messed him up real bad. Bad enough to turn him into a raving psycho. I wonder what had happened to the kids. I shuddered. Maybe I didn't want to know, after all.

" I tried to be a good husband. But no, that wasn't enough for you. You can't live without fucking, can you? You need to have some guy's dick crammed up inside you to be happy, don't you?  
What do you do to the guys you pick up, huh? Jerk them off?  
Suck them until they come? Fuck their brains out? Huh, huh?  
Do they eat your pussy? Do you let them fuck you like an animal? Is that what you want? Is that what you need? Huh?  
Answer me godammit! Tell me why you need to be such a slut!"

He turned around, dragging Scully with him. He slammed her against the wall on the other side. I couldn't see them now.  
The time had come for me to make my move. I slowly began making my way along the boxes until I reached the corner. I froze when I saw he had the blade's point under her chin.

"And what was tonight about? You like strutting in front of those guys like a bitch in heat, don't you? And you were ready to go out, undressed as you are, into the street. You were hoping one of them would grab you, right? You were hoping one of them would rape you, right? That's one of your sick fantasies, isn't it? You're a pervert!"

He jammed his hand between Scully's thighs. I almost pulled the trigger then.

"See? See? You're all wet, you fucking whore! It was that guy, right? The one standing outside the door, wasn't it? Just don't stare at me, you stupid bitch, answer me!"

He slid the blade up and sliced Scully's gag. For the first time, I looked at her face. Her eyes were wide with fear, her chin was trembling, her breath was ragged and her cheeks were tinted with a slight blush. My heart ached for her.

"You're wet for him, aren't you?" Scully stared at him in silence and the guy shake her up slightly, " Don't mess with me, and answer the question. You're wet for him, aren't you?"

Scully swallowed hard, "Yes"

"You want him bad, don't you?"

"Yes"

" What were you going to let him do to you?"

"I-I don't k-know ..."

"Like hell you don't, you cunning bitch! You were going to let him take you on top of the dressing table, then fuck you from behind while you grabbed unto the chair, weren't you?"

Scully's voice was flat, defeated ... "Yes"

The man fell silent for a minute, staring a t Scully. When he spoke again his voice was so calm and detached that I knew he had reached his breaking point.

"That's too bad, Sarah, because you'll never fuck anyone else again"

"Federal Agent, drop your weapon!"

Startled, he spun around. Scully fell to the floor, trying to get out of his reach. 

And I pulled the trigger. Twice.

I sit in my car while I wait for the EMT's to finish checking up on Scully. I try to convince myself that what I had done back in the alley was justifiable, that it was part of the job.

After all, I was a trained federal agent, with a permit to carry, and use, a gun. And it wasn't like I've never shoot anyone before. I have, plenty of times. I even have killed people. But I had never murdered someone.

Until today. Today I murdered James O'Rourke in cold blood.

He was responsible for 14 deaths. True. He was a heartless murderer. True. He was about to murder again, this time my partner and fellow FBI agent. True. Some would say I did what I had to do and good riddance. True. All that is just fine and right.

What ain't fine and right is that I was actually glad that I shot the bastard. It also ain't fine and right that I have no remorse, whatsoever. James O'Rourke will never be a part of my nightmares ... there's no guilt attached to his name. Or any other emotion, for that matter.

The names in my nightmares have different faces ... Duane Barry, Donnie Pfaster, Robert Modell, Linda Bowman, Eugene Tooms, Ed Jersey, Eddie Van Blundht. Different monsters,  
different demons, different madness. The only thing they'll ever have in common is that they tried to hurt Scully in one way or another. And sometimes I couldn't do anything about it.

No tonight. That's why James O'Rourke won't plague my dreams. He's a monster, but not my personal monster. If I had to choose one demon to portray this specific nightmare,  
it would be me.

And that thought is enough to make me shudder.

I have become the monster. I have become the demon. I'll plague my own nightmares for years on end. And perhaps I'll even do some special appearances in Scully's bad dreams.

Shit.

Scully.

I've been so wrapped up in my own self-pity that I forgot to check on her.

I look up. She's still sitting next to the ambulance, but the EMT is gone. She's now talking with Stan Carlbadier.  
She must have sensed my gaze on her, cause she looks at me.

Correction. She looks through me.

And it gives me the creeps.

I could have sworn there was nothing behind her eyes. I could feel a certain coldness in her look, as if her soul were made of stone.

But... it couldn't happen, could it? I mean, this is Scully we're talking about here, isn't it? She'll never turn cold on me, would she? Well? Would she?

And then it hits me. She's perfectly capable of leaving me outside in a frozen hell. So capable in fact, that I got this distinct rotten feeling in my gut that that is exactly what she plans to do.

Funny. I've always thought that our partnership, our friendship, was beyond everything now. After all we've been through, I thought we've reach our own level of invincibility.

Guess I was wrong.

There was a limit, after all. 

One look at our innerselves, at our true feelings, at our weaknesses, and five years of our lives blow up into pieces.

I was right. This time, I had been the monster. I've achieved what not even They have been able to do. They had been able to separate us, but they've never broken us apart. Which is exactly what I have done.

It's over. Whatever it was between us, it is there not more. Scully is gone, and she's not coming back. And this time I did it myself.

I don't think I'll be able to live with that. I really don't think I'll be able to keep on living, at all.

But I'm not worried. Not anymore.

You see, I have this backup plan.

After dropping Scully at her place, I plan to drive straight to mine and write a few letters.

And then I plan to have a nice little chat with a 9mm friend of mine whose name is Smith & Wesson.

A chat long overdue.

END RUBY (5/8) 


	6. Chapter 6

TITLE:RUBY (6/8)  
AUTHOR:Ary GH RATING:NC-17 CATEGORY: MSR

For spoilers, keywords, summary, disclaimers and author's notes, see Part 1

WARNING:Foul language a plenty. Mulder and Scully engage in some serious lashing, both verbal and physical. Shippers: do not fret. This will turn out for the best. Bear with me for two more chapters, ok?  
Non-shippers (if there are any reading this): enjoy while you can. Next chapter will be totally off-limits for your taste.

Author's Notes:Yesterday I found Amanda Marshall's 1996 record while browsing for a soundtrack.  
I bought it out of impulse. And what an impulse it has been! The lyrics in her songs have been following me around like shadows... therefore, it won't be strange if two or three (dozen) of them show up in here somewhere.  
I beg the forgiveness of the author's for not giving them their due credit. I do not wish to infringe any laws, nor plagiarise any of them. It is a great record. 

OUTSIDE THE STARDUST NIGHT CLUB SOMEWHERE AROUND MIDNIGHT

Life can be so intriguing sometimes...

I'm here sitting, wondering if I should blow my brains out or not, and all I can think of is how my death will affect Scully... and she's the reason why I'm considering doing it in the first place...

There was a time when the mere thought of causing her the minimum distress was enough to bring me back from the edge.  
But that time seems to be gone.

Sorry, Ms. Scully, seems like you lost your magic touch.

I don't mean to be sarcastic. It isn't easy to be kind when you have all this demons in your mind. I always thought I'd be able to keep them at bay. Except this time I was the demon. I realise I've been beaten at the hands of my own game.

And it all comes down to this: I'm fed up with my destiny.

Maybe it's time I take destiny into my own two hands.

Maybe.

I looked up to see Scully and Carlbadier walking towards me.  
I got out of the car, and without a word, opened the passenger's door for her.

"Mulder."

I turned around and noticed that Carlbadier was waiting for me on the sidewalk. I closed the door and walked towards him.

"Are you all right?"

"Sure."

"I think she's going to be okay. At least physically."

I shot him an uneasy glance. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure. She seems... distant. I don't really know how to explain it. It's like she's lost her driving force, or something. She's not the same Scully I've worked with before."

I just kept on looking at him without saying a word.

"I might be wrong, though. Perhaps she's just tired. I don't know her that well to tell for sure. Maybe she'll tell you what's bothering her. You're her partner, after all..."

Stan looks both embarrassed and worried at the same time. I decided to give the poor guy a break.

"Yeah. Maybe. Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on her"

I could tell Carlbadier was relived. "I'd better go, then. I'll give Skinner a copy of the report. Now go home and rest, you both need that"

And with that, Stan Carlbadier is gone. Feeling uneasy, I walked back to the car.

Scully was just sitting there, staring straight ahead. She didn't seem to acknowledge my presence when I got into the car. Throwing one last look her way, I started the car.

Scully and I had had our share of silences before. Some were good and some were definitively bad. But none as uncomfortable as this one. This one was oppressive. It was void of emotion or feelings. As if one of us wasn't in the car at all.

The silence got so bad, that I did something I couldn't remember doing before when we were together. I turned on the radio. I carefully glanced at Scully. I don't think she even noticed the music coming out from the speakers. It was that bad.

I kept on driving, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel to keep me focused on the road ahead. I wasn't paying much attention to the music, either. 

Slowly, I began to make out part of the lyrics. I remember thinking what kind of person could write something so depressing...

Right now, Foxy boy, you'd be a hell of a songwriter If it's angst you want, why don't you take a look inside?  
Might be a hit.  
Yeah, except that Billie Holliday and Edith Piaf are both dead No one else could sing your songs, Foxy boy...

" Some fool is raging overhead and he's preaching the godspel according to Johnnie Walker Red... "

Not a bad gospel Perhaps I'll study it later

" Did I just miss the last exit to Eden? Is this the only love I'll know? Like a Judas kiss, did my heart betrayed me?..."

Is there really an exit to Eden?  
There should be. I mean, there sure are many going into Hell Can we discuss the part about love a little more?  
Don't go there Aw, come on. How bad can it be?  
It can't be worse than it already is.  
Let's talk about the only love you'll know...

Mercifully, we had arrived to Scully's apartment. She opened the door and got out, slamming it. She began walking to her place without looking back.

I sighed. So this was the way things were going to end. Fine by me. Now I could go and drink myself to madness without worrying about her.

" There are some sins that you can justify, but not the one I'm guilty of... I had a choice one last chance ago, but I turned my back on love..."

I turned the car around and headed for my place. Out of reflex, I stretched my hand to turn the radio off. I froze when I heard the last part of the song...

" We both might need a saviour, tonight I fear that mine is the one I left waiting far behind..."

I sighed again. I just couldn't put myself out of this misery without talking to her for one last time. I had been a fool thinking I could get away just like that.

Destiny had decided to get his hands back on my life. Funny how it choose to do it. With a song. If I weren't a believer by nature, I'd say it was a coincidence and nothing more. The paranoid inside me was beginning to think it was a plot against our self-destructing instincts...

Before I could change my mind, my heart had parked us in front of Scully's building. I searched for her apartment's spare key, as I had the feeling she wasn't going to be all that happy to see me.

Heck, how I hate to be right sometimes!

I hadn't expected Scully to open the door. After all, I had only been banging on it for only five minutes...

"Get the Hell out of here, Mulder."

What did I tell you? She's leaping with joy at my sight.

"Happy to see me Scully?"

"I told you to get the fuck out of here."

Scully was swearing. It came almost as a surprise. Being a Navy brat I was sure she knew her French up to the nines, but I had seldom, if ever, heard her use that kind of words. I guess this meant she was royally pissed off...

"I don't want to."

"What!"

"You heard me, Scully. I don't want to go."

"Fine. Whatever. I'll just call the police and let them know you're trespassing without a warrant. Let's see how you explain that to Skinner."

That did it. I followed into the kitchen after slamming the front door and ripped the goddamn phone of the wall.

"Do I have your attention now?"

For a second, Scully seemed at a lost for words. But she recovered. Quite nicely, I might add.

"Oh, and now you get your kicks out of harassing me. What's next? Are you going to spank me?"

"Don't give me any ideas, Scully..."

"I don't think you should need any, Mr. Mulder. You seem to have your kinky number well rehearsed by now..."

I was really angry by that time. "What the hell was that supposed to mean?"

Scully crossed her arms on her chest and gave me her iciest stare. "Figure it out yourself, Mr. Oxford graduate"

"Don't mess with me, Scully. You might regret it later."

"Is that so?"

"Yes"

"Why?"

Scully's last question had thrown me out of balance. I didn't know what to answer to that without betraying my suicidal intentions...

But damn if I was going to let her win this argument. She seemed to need a little shock, anyway.

"Because, ex-partner, I've had it with my life and your "Ice Queen" routine and I plan to go home after setting this record straight and blow my fucking brains out. That's why"

Scully's voice sounded amused. "And I'm supposed to regret that?"

That was the last straw. I lost control of my emotions and let them flow freely. I grabbed Scully and threw her into the couch, pinning her down with my body.

"What does it take to crack your facade, Scully? What does it take to make you a human like the rest of us mere mortals? What do I need to do to get a response from you? What? What?"

Scully's cool exterior was only betrayed by the nervous flick of her tongue on her lower lip. It proved to be enough. Five years of self-restraint went crashing out of the window.

Without hesitating, I lowered my head and kissed her. Hard.

This time I had a reaction from her. A very painful reaction.  
She bit my lip forcefully enough to draw blood. Her right fist connected with my jaw. And, to top it all, her knee hit me straight in the groin.

I fell to the floor, groaning. Serves me right thinking I could get away with it. Serves me right for not thinking, period.

"You bastard! How dare you?"

How dare I, indeed.

"So much for the damsel in distress routine..." I muttered to myself when I felt a stinging pain on my left cheek. Scully had slapped me and I never saw it coming.

I looked up at her, rubbing my cheek "Why? I mean, wasn't kicking my ass enough?"

"You were the one who started this "damsel in distress" cliché"

Ouch. Not only had she kicked my ass, she was now trampling over my pride.

"Mulder..."

I avoided looking in her eyes. "Yes, Scully?"

"Had enough?" I nod. "Good. Now get the fuck out of my house.  
Better yet. Get the fuck out of my life. Go blow your brains out if you feel like it. I don't care."

She walked to the door and opened it wide. Then she crossed her arms across her chest and waited, impatiently, for me to get up and get out.

I got up and walked towards her. Instead of walking through the door I pushed it close. Scully stared at me in disbelief.

"And now that we're done with foreplay, I think it is time for us to talk..."

And with that, I picked her up from the floor and headed back towards the couch.

Perhaps, after we're done talking, and if I'm still alive, we'll go back to the foreplay part.

Crash!

I had ducked just in time to avoid being hit on the head by Scully's coffee mug. It had crashed on the wall behind me, splattering the lukewarm liquid in every conceivable direction. The shattered mug laid on the carpet, where the coffee stains were beginning to set in.

I looked back at Scully. She had sank into the couch, her face hidden behind her hands. Her neck was stiff as a rod, not revealing what emotional distress, if any, was she suffering from...

I wondered what, exactly, had triggered this unusual outburst in my partner.

Perhaps it was the fact that I kicked her coffee table, throwing everything on top of it to the floor. It also could be the fact that I had ignored her request of my leaving for the sixth time that night. Then again, maybe it was my telling her that I had enough experience now as to ascertain, without the shadow of doubt, that she was, indeed, the "Ice Queen". Or maybe it was all of the above, put together.

And there she was, sitting on the couch. Trembling. And I stood there, not knowing what to do, what to think. Was she trembling out of anger? Or was it sadness? Or maybe she was just trying to get a grip on her emotions, so seldomly displayed?

"Scully?" I didn't exactly knew what to say, but I couldn't stand there doing nothing anymore.

Her reply came from behind her hands. "Just go ... please"

My heart broke and shattered. Her voice was so defeated, so sad, so ... final. I had never heard her use that tone of voice, not even when she was dying.

"Scully?"

"Go, Mulder. It's over. You and I. Everything. It's just...over"

A searing pain went through my entire being. "How can it be over? Scully, we're more than partners, we're friends..."

"Ha! Some kind of friend you turned out to be!"

I felt like cracking my best Barry Manilow joke, but decided against it. I didn't think Scully would appreciate the humour just then. So, instead, I just raised a questioning eyebrow.

She was standing now, pacing around, her hair flying wildly around her face. "How can you say you're my friend? I've never meant anything to you! I've always been the adorable little sidekick, always there in case you needed your ass covered! I've done everything for you! I've lied, I've risked my life, I've lost my sister, I've lost the chance to have a family of my own, I've lost my credibility as an agent and as a doctor. For what? For the privilege of working in the most underrated, laughed at, less respected area in the FBI? For working with you? And what have I got in return? Nothing! What have you done for me?"

I opened my mouth to offer her some insights on that particular topic, but she kept on ranting, so I kept quiet.

"Oh, sure. You've saved my life a couple of times. But it never was because you cared about me. It was an effort to keep your conscience clear and the skin on your butt unscarred. But you know what? You're the biggest self-centred, egotistical bastard I've ever met. I should have left you years ago! I should have listened to my family and friend's advice and dumped "Spooky"! But no. I had to prove how good an agent I was. I had to prove that I wasn't afraid of "Spooky" Mulder. I had to prove I could be better that the all-mighty Fox Mulder, golden boy of VCS and fabled profiler of mythological dimensions!"

"You proved that our the first year together. Why didn't you leave then?"

Scully looked at me, piercing me with the intensity of her blue eyes. Ice on top, fire simmering below.

"Because I made the most stupid mistake of my life. I fell in love with you"

This felt like a steel sheet being banged on my face. " You what?"

"I told you it was the most stupid thing I could ever do. I fell in love with you. Ridiculous, right? And the most pathetic thing about it was that I couldn't do anything about it. You'd never even deign to look my way. Why should you? I'm not leggy, or busty or brunette. But I thought you respected me, liked me. After your little charade tonight, I know I was wrong. How could I be so stupid? How could I have thought you'll have any feelings whatsoever for me?"

I stared at her, my mouth literally hanging open from shock. I had to deeply breath a couple of times before I was able to talk. "What charade are you talking about? I don't understand what..."

"You don't, huh? Let me refresh your memory: you follow me around like a sick puppy all day yesterday, then show up at the club trying to place a high wager on me. And then, when I try to get you out of there, you dazzle me with your friendship speech, which I naively believed. I was stupid enough as to believe that you took one of the front seats to show me some moral support, but you really set me straight by leaving before my number was over. And... and..."

Tears were rolling down her cheeks, like a silent accusation.

"I'm sure you found my stripping disgusting. I can understand that. I must have looked like a sorry excuse of a woman out there, and I don't blame you for leaving when you did..."

Scully had kept her eyes lowered so far. But now she looked at me, straight into my soul.

"What I don't understand is why you had to go and lie to me"

I was shocked. "Lie to you? Scully, I'd never lie to you"

She raised her eyebrow in disbelief. "Really? Then, what was all that bullshit you were spitting out just outside the dressing room?"

I felt anger boiling up inside me again. I really had to keep a tight rein over my temper now, for I was certain I would do something I'd really regret later. Turning my back to Scully, I crouched down and began picking up the pieces of the shattered mug.

"So you have nothing to say, huh?"

I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Well, that's a good enough answer for me. Thanks a lot for showing me where I stand in the real world. My only regret is having trusted you all this years."

She began walking toward her bedroom. "Close the door on your way out"

I got up and, taking 3 big strides, stopped her by grabbing her shoulders.  
"Are you over with it?"

"I believe everything between you and I is over now"

"I mean, are you over with your tirade? Because, if you are, I believe it's my turn to make some things clear"

"I really don't think ..."

I interrupted her by placing my hand over her mouth.

"You know, Scully, I believe that's the problem with you. You either think too much or don't think at all"

"There's no need to add insult to injury."

"I'm not planning to. Now, be a good girl and sit down and hear what I have to say..."

"Stop patronising me!"

"I'm not! Scully, please? Just listen, ok? I'll tell you my side of the story and if you don't like it, I'm out of here. Of your life. Forever.  
I promise. Just bear with me for a little longer, ok?"

Her eyes were wide and earnest. "And then you'll go?"

"If you want me to"

She looked at me on more time before turning around and sitting on the couch. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Ok. You got five minutes. This better be good Mulder, or I'll do the brain blowing myself".

I looked at her to see if she was joking, but her expression remained dead serious. I hesitated for a moment, carefully choosing the words that would decide my whole future.

"You know, Scully, it's always struck me as funny how two people that can read each other's thoughts just by looking at each other could be so blind when trying to read each other's hearts."

Scully looked at her watch, uninterested.

"But now that I'm standing in the middle of disaster, I don't find it funny. Heck, it's not even amusing! I said I loved you and you didn't believe it. You said you loved me and I still don't believe it. What kind of jerks are we that we can't come to rationally acknowledge what our hearts have known for so long?"

"Why is it so hard to accept that we're in love with each other?"

END RUBY (6/8) 


	7. Chapter 7

TITLE:RUBY (7/8)  
AUTHOR:Ary GH RATING:NC-17 CATEGORY: MSR

For spoilers, keywords, summary, disclaimers and author's notes, see Part 1

MORE AUTHOR'S NOTES: Our favourite heroes are still a little.  
shall I say upset? Angst, anger, truths tossed straight at their faces, and ... oh, yes, some civilised sex talk.  
You're been warned. Read at your own risk.

WILLS INN / COASTAL MAINE AUGUST 25 10:05 P.M.

I contemplate the events of this past weeks while lying on this hotel's bed, staring at the ceiling.

The "redhead killer" case is closed and almost forgotten. I can go back and play in the basement until another one of this monsters comes out and my profiler skills are requested again.

This will suit me just fine, except that, since that case, I'm down there playing by myself.

Scully's been reassigned. She'll never work at the X-Files again.

Oh, I could count on her medical expertise if I needed it. Except that I'd have to request it off the records. I'm not allowed to work directly with her anymore.

I wonder what would have happened if things had been different that night at her apartment...

DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT AUGUST 10 02:17 A.M.

"Why is it so hard to accept that we're in love with each other?"

The question hung in the air between us, unanswered. Scully looked at me for a brief second, then proceeded to look at the floor. She was biting her lower lip, as she usually does when deep in thought.  
I wanted to say something, anything, to relieve the oppressive silence that engulfed her apartment, but was afraid of opening my mouth. I was scared shitless of making things worse than they were. 

Not that I thought it was possible.

"Is that all you have to say?"

Her question caught me off-guard and threw me out of balance. I had not expected this reaction. So much for expecting the unexpected...

"Excuse me?"

"I asked if that was ..."

"I heard you fine the first time, Scully. What I'm asking is what do you mean by that"

"Isn't it obvious?"

God! I hate it when she plays with my mind like this! I'm the psychologist, for Christsakes!

"Cut the bullshit, ok Scully? I'm not in the mood for your intriguing mind games right now"

"So you don't want to play anymore?"

"S-cu-llee..." I was loosing my temper again. I believe she felt it, too, for she sat down again and motioned me to do the same.

"So... your only explanation is that we're in love with each other and we're stupid or stubborn enough as to not recognise or admit it"

There's Scully for you. She has a way of summarising everything and making it sound so damn logical.

"In a nutshell...yeah, I guess you can say that."

"And what are you planning to do about it?"

Why is it that she always has to bring up the most difficult questions in the minimum amount of time? Why can't she just humour me and beat about the bush for a little while? Just long enough for me to come up with the answer?

"I ... I d-don't know, Scully"

"Don't know or don't care?"

I stare at her, not believing how much misunderstanding could go on between us. We could read our minds like an open book, but we were certainly clueless when it came to the matters of the heart.

"How can you say that I don't care? Scully, what I feel for you is so complex that I can't even begin to understand it, let alone put it in words, and you're accusing me of not caring?"

"Then try to explain it to me, Mulder, cause I don't understand it"

I lean forward and rest my head on my hands. I also let out a sigh. I had done a wonderful job at screwing everything so far, that I seriously doubted I could make things any worse than they already were.

Any way you looked at it, this was the end of the X-Files. After tonight's fiasco I didn't think Scully would want to work with me again. Heck, I'd be lucky if she didn't slap a sexual harassment lawsuit on me. I was going to get my ass canned for good. And if, just if, everything worked out just fine, those Bureau regulations would never allow us to work together.

So, there I was, stuck in a no-win situation, while Scully waited for my response. The only problem was, I didn't know how to answer her question.

"Where would you like me to begin?"

"What were you doing following me?"

At least she began with the easy part. "I was worried for your safety and Skinner sort of authorised me to follow you. We didn't really trust the guys at VCS for keeping an eye on you"

"And you couldn't trust me for taking care of myself"

"No! It's not that. As I told you before, I know you're capable of taking care of yourself. Hell, you even take care of me most of the times! But you seriously didn't expect me to stay sitting in the basement, not knowing what was going on, did you?"

For the first time since I began explaining my actions I dared to look up at here. She seemed to be considering my words, and I even ventured a small smile.

"No. It really would be asking too much of you. But what were you doing at the night club tonight? What was all that stuff about us being friends?"

Things were starting to look more difficult. This was a touchy question. I pondered my options before answering. Half-truths wouldn't do at the moment...

What the hell! We've spent the last 5 years searching for the truth,  
we should, at least, be able to face it when it came to us...

"I-I ... really don't know how to put it. I knew you'd be mad if I showed up as your partner, because it would mean that I didn't trust you enough as to let you work by yourself. And if I tried to come across as the insanely jealous lover you'd kick my ass, quite rightfully, I might add, cause I don't have the right to act that part yet, so I ..."

"Yet?"

Damn it! Fuck! Oh shit! And now what? How am I supposed to answer that?

"Umm... Scully... I believe you know by now that my feelings for you go beyond those of a partner... and I was insanely jealous of all the guys at the club, thinking they might want to get more ... personal with you, so..."

"So it was easier for you to do your big macho number, acting territorial and snarling at everyone who got close to me?" Not knowing what to say, I just nodded, "Has it occurred to you that I don't want your protection? That two brothers is all I'm willing to stand?"

"But I don't want to protect you! I don't want to be your brother,  
damnit! And after tonight, I don't even want to be your partner!"

"So what you want to be, then?"

"I want to be your lover"

The statement went unanswered for a couple of minutes. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable and deeply ashamed. I knew I had made a very stupid mistake by letting my emotions take over. A really bad mistake. I knew I ...

My inner guilt-trip was interrupted by Scully's laughter. Wait. No. It wasn't a laugh. It was more like a ... snort. A very bitter snort.  
I looked up to see her, and I almost regretted the action.

"You ... you want to be my lover?" her voice was coated with scepticism and disdain.

I nodded, not knowing what to say.

"Bastard!"

Her shriek felt like a blow to my guts.

"Why? Why? Tell me why you feel the need to make fun of me!"

"But I'm not making fun of you, Scully! I really meant it when I said that ..."

"Oh, no. Of course you didn't! How can you say that? I know what I saw back at the club, Mulder! You walked out on me!"

"It's not like that, Scully! You have it all backwards!"

"Really? And how's that, huh? Whatever your reasons, it all comes down to the fact that YOU walked out on me!"

Scully can be so excruciatingly stubborn sometimes the I find it hard not to loose my patience with her. This seemed to be the case just then...

"Ok, Miss Know-it-all, and why exactly did I walk out on you, as you so self-righteously put it?"

I don't know if it was the question, or the sarcasm with which I had stated the question, but Scully seemed at a loss for words.

Momentarily, that is.

"Because you were repulsed by what you saw"

Her voice had dropped considerable decibels, so many, in fact, that I had a hard time just hearing her. What came loud and clear, though,  
was the defeat and sadness in her words.

And then I understood. Time and time again Scully had hinted she had been a kind of "late-bloomer", always on the shadow of her sister Melissa's light. She'd grown up feeling insecure about her looks, so she found it almost impossible to believe that someone could find her attractive, desirable.

Scully has always taken pride of her mind and her skills. She was confident on them. Although people speculated if her beauty had helped her attain her present position, I know Scully would never rely on her looks to achieve something. Firstly, because she's too damn honourable. Secondly, because she doesn't know she has them. I mean, she knows she's your average nice. She still hasn't realised what a knock-out she is.

And then I remembered something else. I had once complimented on how good she looked now that the cancer was finally gone, and she had replied, somewhat harshly, that, at least, she could now bear to look at her reflection on the mirror. I thought she was making a joke out of an uncomfortable situation. Now I know better.

"Scully ...", my voice was quieter, more gentle now, "I'd never feel repulsed by you..."

Her subdued anger came back to life with that. "Oh, come on! Look at me, Mulder! Just take a good look at me!" 

She got up from the couch and hastily removed the terry robe she was wearing. Underneath, she was still in her "stripper's gear".

I did as she requested, and took a good long look at her. And damn my soul if I didn't feel aroused again. I must have stared at her,  
wide-eyed and mouth slightly open for longer than I thought, for she covered herself up again.

"See? You have nothing to say. You can't think of one nice thing to say to me. Oh, God! I made a fool of myself in that club!" 

She crumbled back on the couch. I got up and kneeled in front of her,  
taking her face in my hands.

"Scully ... you're so beautiful I'm speechless..."

She looked at me with big eyes, full of fear and hope. And my heart melted. She was afraid I'd lie to her, but nevertheless hoped I was telling her the truth...

"Mulder..."

I silenced her with a finger. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Not only that, you're intelligent and caring and strong. And the combination is lethal. You're so damn sexy that you make my head spin..."

"Sexy? You think I'm sexy?" Scully's voice was filled with amazement and incredulity.

"You sure as hell are. Believe me, I know sexy when I see it, and I'm looking at it right now"

"But then ... at the club...why did you... I mean..."

"You want to know why I left before you finished dancing?"

Scully just nodded, lowering her gaze.

"Well, Scully, I figured that having a fully dressed orgasm once a day was more than enough..."

"What!" Scully's expression was one of shock and indignation.

"I followed you to the club and watched you rehearse while I stayed in the darkness. Watching you dance fully clothed was one of the most erotic things I've ever seen. I was so aroused by your movements that one touch was all I needed ... call it mental masturbation if you want."

"Why... you...you..."

"But watching you perform that night was more than I could stand. And watching you while you watched me watching you... that shattered any self-restraint I had. I was actually whimpering and moaning in my seat, and I could barely resist the urge to climb on that stage and take you in my arms and kiss you like you deserve to be kissed... so I turned my back on this sexual fantasy come true and ran to the bathroom before I managed to embarrass us both..."

She slapped me. Twice. She pushed me away from her with all her strength and got up, standing behind the couch. Her breathing was ragged and her hair flew wildly about her face. I looked at her,  
searching for a clue on how to proceed.

"You... pervert! How dare you turn me into a sexual object! You, of all people! I'm your partner, not one of those bimbos you date! I'm not one of those porn starlets you're so fond of! I'm not a sexual fantasy, goddamit!"

I slowly got up, rubbing my face. "If you can't handle the truth, then why do you ask for it on the first place?"

She was bewildered. "Truth? What truth? What the hell are you talking about, Mulder?"

I walked to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. "My truth. Our truth. The whole truth. I've wanted you so badly since I first saw you, that I was determined to get you out of the X Files so I had a chance to score with you. But then I took a look at what was inside that tempting body and fell head over heels in love with you."

Scully was beginning to look scared. "Mulder... you didn't... you shouldn't have..."

"Don't you think I know that? Do you have the faintest idea what it's been like working next to you this past 5 years? Having you at an arm lenght and not being able to touch you, when every fucking cell in my body was screaming at me to do it?"

"Mulder... I..."

"Do you know how many times I had to excuse myself and hide somewhere dark until I regained my composure? Do you know the hell I've been through laying in a motel room knowing you were 10 feet away from me, and not being able to do anything? How excruciating it was to be able to do nothing except dream that you were in bed with me? Countless nights I've sat in my apartment, watching those goddamned videos, wondering how it would feel to do those things with you. I've lost count of how many times I've jerked off, thinking about you. I mean, God! I come screaming your name, Scully. I would wish it were your hands touching me. I'd long to hear my name on your lips too. I imagined us in ecstasy, filled with desire for each other's touch. I dreamed of coming inside you..."

Scully's gaze had fallen to the floor. Tears were slowly rolling down her face. "I-I'm so-sorry, Mulder. I-I didn't k-know..."

I slowly hugged her. "Don't be sorry. It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. This is just the way things are. Please don't cry, Dana,  
it's not worth it."

I felt her body stiffen in my arms. "How can it be not worth it?"

"Don't get me wrong, Scully. Loving you is worth everything I have. I could never trust anyone as much as I trust you. I wouldn't want any other partner, nor I could wish for a better friend. But, if I had to choose between what I now have and becoming your lover, I'd rather keep the former. Sexual frustration is a small price to pay if I get to keep you by my side. I can always rely on my fantasies to get by..."

Scully was now crying openly. "It's just not fair, Mulder. Why can't we have everything? Why should we be forced to choose? Why can't we be partners and friends and lovers at the same time?"

I pulled her away from me, trying to get a look at her face, not believing what I had just heard. She must have noticed my disbelief,  
for she kept on talking. "You're not the only one suffering from unrequited love and sexual frustration, Mulder"

"Scully, just because I've bared my soul to you doesn't mean you have to make it up for me somehow.."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "How can you be so dense, so... so stupid? You're not the only one who has gone through hell trying to keep emotions in check, you know. That pouty mouth of yours has driven me crazy more times than I care to remember. But that's not all. Your intelligence, your wits, your passion, your quirky sense of humour... I've fought so hard not to love you, but it's something beyond my control now. The only thing that has kept me from jumping your bones are those damn regulations. If I hadn't been brought up to always play by the book, I'd..."

"You'd what?"

"I'd cross the line"

"And what's stopping you? I mean, if you really felt this was right,  
why haven't you done something about it?"

"For the same reasons you haven't. I can't live without you in my life, and this really irritates me. I'm not used to surrendering so completely, to totally loose control and let go. I'm afraid I'll get so caught up inside you that I'll never be myself again."

"But, then again, I can't live in fear all my life, can I?"

I pondered her question carefully. I was willing to walk through hell and back for her, for us. Was she willing to do the same? Did she truly believed we had a future, and that such future was worth risking everything we had?

I had to know for sure. "Would you do it Scully? For me?"

A little smile played on her lips. "When will you learn that not everything is about you?"

"But I want it to be."

I gently cuped her face with my hands, moving closer to her. My mouth was barely inches away from hers. "May I?"

Scully closed her eyes and barely nodded. And so, I kissed her.  
As long as I live, the image of that first kiss will remain etched in my memory. It was soft and tender, yet passionate and possessive at the same time. It went beyond my fantasies and my memories of past loves. I know recognised I hadn't known what love really was until I met Scully.

I felt immediately aroused, but it went beyond sexual. This wasn't just my body trying to release my building passion. This was more than that. It was a yearning of my heart, an aching in my mind, an unfulfillment of my soul.

That kiss had doomed me forever. If I couldn't have her, all of her,  
my existence was over. I would carry on like a ghost, like a shadow,  
like a whisper of my former self. I would continue until the pain filled every nook, every cell of my being... until it was unbearable,  
and then I'd put an end to it. Which meant I had barely a few minutes left to live.

We separated. Scully's cheeks were gleaming with tears, as I was sure mine were. I let her go, and she blindly reached for the sofa, slumping down on it.

"Damn it, Mulder! Why did this have to happen? I can't go back to being just your partner, I just can't!"

Once again, I kneeled in front of her. "Do you trust me, Dana?"

She didn't hesitate. "With my life".

"Marry me"

END RUBY (7/8) 


	8. Chapter 8

TITLE:RUBY (8/8)  
AUTHOR:Ary GH RATING:NC-17 CATEGORY: MSR

For spoilers, keywords, summary, disclaimers and author's notes, see Part 1

MORE AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm in favour of the practice of safe sex. In this day and age, it would be rather stupid not to use a condom when you engage in a new relationship.

But for the sake of this story, and regarding this character's complex relationship, I'm leaving that issue out of the equation. I have my reasons for this. If you're interested on what these reasons are, please e-mail me.

Then again, if you're not Mulder and Scully, or any other character in the fiction realm, please do practice safe sex and use a condom, ok?  
Having said that, I proceed with the story.

WILLS INN / COASTAL MAINE AUGUST 25 10:15 P.M.

I'm starting to get restless. After so many years spent travelling,  
you'd expect I'd be used to sleeping in motel rooms. But I'm not.  
I don't like it. I feel trapped, encaged.

So, I'll do what I always do. I reach for the remote. Scully once told me that my tv addiction borders on obsession. It isn't. Not really. I just use tv to free my mind when my body is confined. Which is often enough to grant a severe addiction level.

I channel surf. Typical male behaviour, I know. I catch the end of a movie, a romantic comedy by the looks of it. A couple kissing in close-up. Then the take opens and you see them at the altar. The wedding scene freezes and the credits start to roll.

My mind wanders back to that night in Scully's apartment. To say that my marriage proposal was something totally unexpected would be an understatement of major proportions.

Scully never saw it coming. Heck, even I didn't see it coming. It just happened. Not that I regret it. After five long years living in denial, asking Scully to marry me was the most natural thing in the world.

Sure. Fine. Whatever.

The truth was that I was scared shitless. My conscience was out cold.  
My lust was whining. My intellect was screaming a long string of blasphemies to the other two. And my heart? Feeling very pleased with itself, thank you. He was just sitting there, knowing he could be annihilated in 30 seconds and not giving a shit.

Well, I did give a shit. A truckload of it, to be perfectly honest.  
I had just proposed to the only woman I'd ever propose to and she hadn't uttered a single word. 

I had to understand her, though. Fifteen minutes before we were screaming, hurling the most damaging accusations at each other. Ten minutes before I finally confessed the overwhelming impact she has on my sexual fantasy life. Five minutes before we said we were sorry and shared our first kiss.

Next thing I knew, I was on my knees, asking her to trust me and marry me.

Who said I wasn't a romantic soul?

DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT AUGUST 10 3:19 A.M.

Scully just stared at me, her eyes wide open, without uttering a single word. I begun to feel nervous, thinking I had fucked it up,  
again. But damn my soul to hell if I was going back on my words.

"Why?"

That soft three-letter syllable hit my guts with such intensity that I could feel the wind getting knocked out of me. I expected a yes, a no, a kiss, a kick in my groin. I could even expect laughter or ire.  
But I never expected a why.

"Why am I asking you to marry me? Is that what you want to know? Isn't it obvious, Scully? We just went through hell and back on our own private emotional roller coaster, and you still ask me why?"

She looked slightly embarrassed. "I'm not asking you to tell me why you proposed. I know the answer to that one. What I'd like to know is, why know? Why not tomorrow or next week? Why now?"

Have I ever mentioned that Scully has this gift for asking the most difficult questions first? 

"It felt like the right time to do it. I wanted you to know that what I feel for you is for real, that my feelings for you will never change. That if there's going to be an "us", I want it to be forever. This is not a game and it's not one of my impulsive whims.  
If we decide to give it a try, we go the whole way. For me, it is an all or nothing gamble. And I placed all my chips on us."

She stared at me for a second, and then blessed my soul with a smile.  
"I never considered a marriage proposal could be used as gambling chips..."

"A lifetime commitment is a serious bet."

"Is that how you see it? As a lifetime commitment"  
I took her hands in mine. "With your Catholic upbringing and my family background, divorce is definitively out of the question, Scully. I know you could do better than me, but..."

She placed one finger on my lips. "I'd never find someone better than you, Mulder. I'd never be able to love someone else the way I love you. And I'd never want to find someone else."

"I love you, Fox Mulder, and I will keep on doing so till the end of my life."

Scully placed her hands on both sides of my face and leaned down to kiss me. And I lost myself completely in that kiss.

I could feel the softness of her lips on mine, the swift movements of her tongue against my teeth, requesting sanctuary inside my mouth. And, once again and forever this time, I granted her access into my soul.

Softness gave way into passion. Tenderness dissolved in desire. My hands tangled in her hair. My mouth working on a frenzy trying to devour hers. 

Soon, my hunger could not be appeased by mere kisses anymore. I needed her, all of her. I longed to imprint every inch of her being with my own self. I wanted to feel her passion press against mine, melt within mine, grow along with mine...

We separated, gasping for air, feeling incomplete at the loss of touch. I looked into Scully's eyes, and shivered. If indeed the eyes are the mirror of the soul, hers were a turmoil of emotion, swirling and gaining momentum, sweeping everything in its path. I yearned to get lost there, yet I knew that I was looking into the twin reflection of my own need.

But Scully's gaze spoke of a vast array of emotions: there was love,  
lust, desire, need, adoration, and ... fear. I couldn't help but wonder why she was afraid. Maybe she was having doubts. Maybe she was regretting the whole thing. Maybe she had just realised that this was a mistake and was afraid of my reaction. Maybe she was scared of hurting me when she rejected me. Maybe...

"Mulder..."

I braced myself. Here came the final blow. She was going to tell me that this couldn't work out, that I'd better go, that...

"I love you so much that it scares me."

Love? Scully is afraid of love? The woman who could fight aliens and mutants was afraid of her feelings? What was going on here?

"I don't understand, Scully ... what exactly are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid of feeling this happy. Of loosing you now that I've finally found you. Of the uncertainty of our future together. Of loosing control... there are so many things that scare me right now,  
Mulder, that I don't know if I've got enough guts to face them."

I caressed her cheek. "Scully... Dana. We deserve to be happy. I can't promise you a fairy tale romance. God knows my armour is way too tarnished to play a decent Prince Charming, though I believe I qualify for the frog part..." I saw her smile and something inside me started to melt. "But I'm willing to face every challenge destiny decides to throw our way."

"So you're not afraid..."

"Who, me? Spooky Mulder, chaser of aliens? You gotta be... absolutely right. I'm so fucking scared that I'm afraid of moving! But I know in my heart this is what I want, and I won't settle for anything less than you."

Scully looked at me hesitatingly, "No regrets?" 

"None whatsoever. You're stuck with me for good this time. I'll even give you ownership rights..."

She licked her mouth in a way that send shivers down my spine. "So,  
what you're saying is that I own you..."

My voice came as a hoarse whisper. "Ye-es."

Her voice acquired a husky tone. "That's good, because I'm planning on laying claim of your body right now."

Scully swiftly pushed me down to the floor and followed suit. I could fell her body pressed to mine and a fireball of desire washed all over me. I could feel her hands sliding down my sides and I could barely repress a shudder. I tried to raise my hands to imitate her movements, but she quickly grabbed my arms and pinned them to the floor by my sides.

"No touching allowed, Mr. Mulder. Not until I'm trough with you".

I think I moaned just then. I also think I heard her laugh. I can't be sure, though. All rational thoughts seemed to have vanished then and there.

She began to softly kiss my brow, my eyes, my cheeks. I felt the flicker of her tongue on my lips, and I opened my mouth, eager to feel her inside. But she just kept on going downwards, kissing and licking the outline of my jaw. By the time her teeth were grazing my earlobes, I was purring like a kitten.

"Sc-scu-lly", I gasped, "did you read a book on how to make your partner nervous or something?"

"Don't know," she replied, licking the hollow of my throat. "Am I making you nervous?"

"Well, I... I"

"That tee has to go, Fox darling."

Maybe it was the words. Maybe it was the way she said the words. But I swear to God I must have broken some sort of physics law while trying to take off my henley. I started to undo my belt buckle when she stopped me.

"Going somewhere?". Her voice was husky, sensual. It gave me some serious Goosebumps... the nice variety.

"N-no, I d-don't think so." My stammering sure made me come across as a worldly man...

"Then, what's the rush? We've got the rest of our lives. But, tonight, we have some unfinished business to take care of."

She stood up and removed the robe. I gulped and felt my eyes leave their sockets. Nothing, and I mean nothing, prepared me for this. My hands caught her calves and started to caress them.

"Ah-ah-ah. No touching, remember? Just lay still and enjoy the show you missed..."

I'm not sure I ever expected to see this daring and bold side of my partner... it seemed so out of character. From demure agent to tantalising vixen in three easy steps. But I wasn't about to complain. My only worries right then were having enough self-restraint as to let her finish stripping before I decided to take things a little bit farther...

There was no music, but there wasn't the need of any. Scully began swaying her hips in a rhythm old as time itself. Her eyes were closed and she was licking her lips while her hands began moving all over her body.

I could feel myself grow hard again, and I had to ball my hands into fists to avoid touching her... and me. A bolt of pleasurable pain was rippling through my body, and hit my groin the moment she took off the push-up bra. I couldn't tear my eyes from her breasts. 

They were almost perfect. Not too much, not too little, sagging just a bit from the natural pull of gravity. Her nipples were hardened, as if begging to be sucked and bitten. On second thought, her breasts were perfect. I had spent too much time gazing at surgically enhanced tits, but I soon realised how great natural breasts looked. And hers were absolutely perfect.

Scully's hands kept on roaming down her body. It was such a powerful and erotic sight I couldn't help but moan inwardly. I tried, unsuccessfully I might add, to shift inside my jeans and give my almost-fully erect cock some "breathing" room. It really was no use-  
it actually made matters worse.

I think my whimpering must have been what gave me away. Scully looked at me and I pleaded with my gaze. She responded by moving her hands farther down and removing her g-string. I got lost in a sea of red curls, and I longed to tangle my fingers and my tongue in them. I had to clench my fists and bit my lower lip to stop me from doing it.

Scully, wearing only a garter belt and the silk stockings, kneeled down and began working on removing my jeans. I gave a sigh of relief,  
and lifted my hips to help her lower them. She leaned down and took off my shoes and my socks and pulled down the jeans.

So there I laid, naked except for my cotton briefs, with a raging hard-on begging to be touched. Scully straddled my knees and leaned forward, and proceeded to lick and suck at my nipples, while brushing her own against my stomach. 12 seconds later I was moaning and breathing heavily, and wiggling underneath her body.

Scully hissed, "Stop moving or I won't continue."

I practically froze at her words. She began making her way down,  
licking and kissing and nipping and driving me crazy. She flicked her tongue inside my belly button and I thrusted into her. My reaction was both powerful and startling. No one had ever done it before, how could I have known it'd be such an erotic experience? I'd never considered the belly button as an erogenous zone before, and now I couldn't wait for her to do it again.

But Scully had other ideas. She kept on moving farther south, toying with the elastic band of my briefs. I knew I had been told to lay still, but that was becoming inhumanly possible. Try not to move when the woman of your dreams is naked on top of you, softly blowing on your erection and licking her lips in anticipation... it is simply impossible.

I felt her mouth lower on top of me. I inhaled deeply and held my breath until I nearly passed out. Scully had lowered my underwear just enough to free my cock and was giving me one of the best blowjobs I'd received in a long time. I felt my muscles tense and decided to stop her before it was too late.

"Scully...oh God, please... wait."

She looked up at me with a questioning eyebrow raised. Her eyes lost their elated look and a worrisome expression swept her face.

"Why? Am I... am I doing something wrong? Don't you like it?"

I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up, until we were face to face, and kissed her. I realised she must have felt very insecure on what she was doing... and swore that I'd never let her feel that way again.

"You're are doing everything absolutely right... too right, as a matter of fact. I love the feel of your mouth and your teeth and your hands, it's just that... I'm not a teen anymore, and you'd given me quite a workout the last 24 hours... I really don't think my friend here would be up for seconds... and I wouldn't like it if you thought I was less of a man just now..."

Scully giggled, perhaps remembering the last time I said those words to her. But I didn't want her to get off track here. "Besides", I whispered confidentially into her ear, "I want...Scully, I need to come inside you..."

I felt her stiffen in my arms. I began kissing her again, moving from one earlobe to the other, tracing the outline of her jaw with my tongue until I felt her relax.

My kisses began a downward journey until I found her nipples. Scully was sighing and moaning and digging her fingers on my hair. I kept on lavishing her breasts with my attentions until she moved my head away from them, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Stop. Oh, please, stop."

I panicked. "Did I hurt you?"

"No... they're just too sensitive right now. I can't stand it."

Understanding dawned on me. Sex always threaded between pain and pleasure. And too much of a good thing, no matter how pleasurable,  
could quickly turn into pain. 

And as sure as hell didn't want to change the mood. My whole body was screaming for release. Had this been any other woman I wouldn't have thought twice about it and I'd simply let my body have its way.

But this was Dana Scully. She was the only woman for me for the rest of my life. I'd given her so much sorrow and pain in the last five years that I wasn't willing to let her go on hurting anymore. Never again.

I grabbed unto the self-control I barely had, and began making my way towards her lower curls. I had just placed my mouth on top of them when I felt her hands on my head.

"Don't." It was a hoarse whisper.

I looked up at her. "But I want to plea..."

"Not now. I don't need it right now. I just need to feel you inside me. Oh, please, Mulder, make love to me. Now."

They were simple words. But they were spoken with passion and desire. With primal need. Who was I to deny her anything?

I pulled myself up to her mouth again and kissed once more. Holding her body tightly, I lifted her and shifted until she was on top of me.

"I'm yours, Scully. Take me. Use me. Show me how to make love to you". I surrendered my body to her, and, with it, I surrendered all control.

She rubbed herself against me a couple of times. I began moaning and moving against her. It felt so good, I was speechless.

And then, with the awkwardness proper of those whose bodies are beginning to make an acquaintance, she positioned herself and slowly lowered into me.  
I bit my lower lip, hard. It was the only thing I could do to prevent me from coming right there and then. I didn't want our first time as lovers to end so quickly, but there wasn't much I could do to stop it, short of getting up and taking a cold shower.

You see, long time abstinence has its downsides, after all. As much as solo sex was an important part of my daily life, it had been a long time since I last was inside a woman.

And what a woman I was inside of right now! She was tight and hot and wet, and I could feel her inner muscles clenching and unclenching in a mind-blowing rhythm. Her hips were swaying and she was slowly moving up and down my length.

Suddenly, her breathing became harsher, and her movements turned faster and random. She was tightening around me and moaning heavily.

"Oh, Fox...ple-ease!"

Her whimpering plead completely undid me. I grabbed her by the hips and began thrusting into her like a madman. My mind was fogged by the physical sensations, and pretty soon my orgasm shattered through my body, and I came grunting her name.

I knew her body was still seeking release, and I did the only thing I could think of. I moved my hand farther up her thigh and began thumbing her clit. Three or four strokes later I felt her whole body tense. She let out a small yelp and collapsed on top of me.

Holding her in my arms, I twisted so we were laying side by side, her head resting on the hollow of my shoulder. I kissed her forehead, unable to speak. As our breaths returned to normal, we drifted into sleep.

Morning found us naked, laying in each others arms. I woke up to find her blue eyes intently looking at me.

"Morning, Sunshine." I whispered.

"Morning, handsome." She whispered back, and leaned forward to kiss me.

We continued to kiss for a while. Languid, loving kisses, full of unspoken promises, of things yet to come. I could spend the rest of my life waking up next to her, and that's what I intended to do, if she was willing to have me.

"Scully..."

She placed a finger to my lips. "Sshh, Mulder. I do."

WILLS IN / COASTAL MAINE AUGUST 25 10:33 P.M.

And she did. We got married two days ago.

Our wedding wasn't big, or glamorous. It was more like a private affair. Her brother Bill wasn't very happy about it, and his duties at sea prevented him form coming, so Walter Skinner gave her away and I asked Stan Carlbadier to be my best man. He earned the right that night at the Stardust.

We're now spending a couple of days in Maine. Next Saturday we're catching a plane to Jamaica, for a week long honeymoon. We'll have a couple of free days when we return, which will be spent moving into our new house in Georgetown.

As we had suspected, the Bureau split us up. As of September 12, Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully, aka Mrs. Fox Mulder, will become head of the forensics department in VCS.

Me? I'm getting a new office for the X-Files. I'm also getting the chance to choose 3 new Agents to work under my supervision. And I'm also the new Profiler Supervisor at VCS. Which means I can still work with Scully every now and then.

I lost the best partner any agent could ever wish for. But I gained a whole lot more. More than I ever expected that gloomy day in March when a rookie redhead came into my basement office.

Sure, the danger is still there. Now bigger than ever. But our happiness is worth the risk. If push comes to shove, we can always quit the Bureau and teach. I don't need the FBI to continue my search for the truth. But I'll always need her by my side.

I hear the bathroom door open, and I look up to see my bride wearing a soft pale silk night-gown, which I went back to Victoria's Secrets to buy.

Dana looks at me, amused. "I leave you for three minutes and you're already playing with that remote."

"There was nothing better to do while you were gone", I reply.

"And now that I'm here?" she asks, teasing me.

I grab her by the waist and throw her in bed next to me. "Now I can't make up my mind as to where to start."

She laughs and I lower myself to kiss her.

The rest of my life has just begun.

THE END 


End file.
